New Beginnings
by KiwiSun
Summary: Claire Harris served her time as an intern at WWE HQ and now has the opportunity to work on the road in the company's social media team. She's looking forward to getting the WWE Universe closer to the roster, without thinking who she might get close to herself. / My first fic. Going to be a slow burn!
1. 1 Meetings and Greetings

"We have a briefing in about 25 minutes, so should I show you around and introduce you to a few people?"

Claire Harris smiled politely. "Yeah, that sounds great." She fell in beside Zane, her new manager, as they walked up the concrete hallways of the venue. This morning had been a whirlwind for her, and she wanted to remain as switched on as possible. Time zones were messing with her head already, but she knew she just needed to make it through the day and her brain and nerves would settle.

"Oh, this is a great one to start with," Zane said, veering right suddenly. Claire dutifully followed. "Hunter?" he called out, increasing his pace to catch up with a man a few feet in front. "Hunter, this is Claire Harris. She's the new social media coordinator we've brought up from HQ. I'm trying to introduce her to some people before we head into planning." Claire extended her hand and locked eyes with the man. She knew who he was. Even before her internship at WWE headquarters began, she knew who he was. "Hi Claire," he said welcomingly, taking her hand. "The name's Paul, but around here, it's Hunter. Nice to have you on the team." Claire made sure her handshake was firm; she'd always remembered her grandfather's words – to do business with men you must show them you can do business like men, no one appreciates a limp handshake. "Hi Hunter, nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you and the roster, I'm really excited." Hunter smirked sideways. "Excellent. I'd heard good things about your work ethic from Zane and the team in Stamford, so I'm sure you'll fit in great. Who you got tonight?" he asked. Claire referred to her copy of the script for that night's RAW tucked into her arm, although she already knew what content she was responsible for tonight. "I've got Stardust and Ryback, then the Divas segment," she said confidently. Hunter nodded his head once. "They'll treat you just fine. Good luck for your first night, I'll see you later on." He turned and walked away, but not without adding "Look out after her, Zee." Zane scoffed quietly and returned "Of course!" as the pair turned down a different corridor.

With each person they met, Claire had to check herself. It wasn't that she was starstruck, but more that she couldn't believe she was finally on the road. Two years ago, she'd applied for a communications internship with the WWE. To her surprise, she got accepted. That first six months were a hard slog and exactly what she expected from being bottom of the food chain. Everyone was polite, of course, but she was working long hours on the most mundane tasks and doing the coffee run for her seniors. She appreciated the laws of the jungle though – you've got to show you're worth it in the real world before you get your chance. She was fresh out of college and her time would come.

Not one to be thankful for someone else's misfortune, Claire still felt a smidgeon of unease about how her career accelerated not long before her first work anniversary. Chris, the digital content coordinator at HQ had an elongated period of time off when his appendix burst suddenly, and then suffered a minor complication from the surgery. Claire could still close her eyes and see the look of sheer panic on her boss Michael's face when she walked in that Thursday morning – there was TV to cover tonight and Chris wouldn't be there to take care of it. There were articles to write, social media to schedule and respond to, and tomorrow, an engagement report to write. Claire volunteered and Michael only agreed once Claire had confirmed she would still be able to get both his morning and afternoon coffees.

The WWE wouldn't have been her first choice of work environment. She had watched bits and pieces when her older brother went through his obsession in the late 90s. Names like The Rock, Steve Austin, Undertaker, Dudley Boys, Edge and Christian, Trish Stratus and, of course, Triple H, were familiar to her. But once her brother moved on to chasing girls and forgot about professional wrestling, Claire hadn't cared to continue following it herself. This had actually worked in her favour in landing the internship. Michael had told her he wanted someone who knew the basics and what the WWE was about, but "ain't got no room for fawning fangirls" was the key takeaway. He was pleased she knew enough to know what she was talking about, but removed enough to not let being a fan take over her job. This, combined with her willingness to work hard and help out, set her up to take advantage of the opportunity which fell her way while Chris was off work. For the first time in her months with the company, articles she had written herself went online and on the app. She was able to create her own content for Facebook and Twitter. She'd never forget the buzz she got when one article on Ceasro had generated a mass discussion between the fans, the WWE Universe. Engagement, she had celebrated. That's what it's all for. Quality engagement. Michael noticed the stats rising during her time, and when Chris returned, reallocated tasks to allow the two of them to work together. When a vacancy came up on the road with the travelling communications team, it wasn't Chris who Michael suggested to Zane, it had been Claire. Now she would be traveling the country with the company and its roster of Superstars and Divas, who she had previously only written about from afar.

The last room Zane led her into was occupied by three men. He knocked gently on the door and two of the men looked up. "Oh hey Zee," said one of them, raising his eyebrows in greeting. Claire felt weird. She'd felt weird all day. Zane was introducing her to people she already knew the names of. She knew their characters and their trademarks, their ring attire and faces more than they'd probably think was acceptable, if they knew. But that's what happens when you're uploading stories, editing photos and posting to social media in this company. You know people without actually knowing them. She knew the three people before her; Roman Reigns, one of the Usos (okay, so maybe she wasn't yet good enough to tell the difference between them), and Dean Ambrose. Today was about them meeting her, really; getting to know that she'd be the one coordinating their social media presence for shows, so they'd need to get used to her.

The man came forward, acknowledging Claire's presence and expecting it was someone Zane had come to introduce. "Guys," Zane started, "meet Claire. She's flown out from HQ today to join my team. She'll be taking care of some of the social media so I'm trying to introduce her to everyone I can before you all have to work together." The Uso came forward, offering his hand. "I'm Jey, good to have you on board." Claire took his hand, smiled and expressed her own pleasantries. Next, the man she knew as Roman did the same. "Joe. Look forward to working with you." Claire smiled and shook his hand.

"And this man probably won't be so willing to work with you," Zane laughed, "as he can't stand social media, right Ambrose?" The men all chuckled, and with a quick scan of their mood, Claire joined in. "Right," said Ambrose. "All a waste of time for me. But I don't cramp your style too much, do I Zee? I play along." Zane scoffed. "Begrudgingly." Ambrose extended his hand from his seat to Claire. "Jon." Claire took his hand and smiled, thinking his hair was a mess. She'd not seen him without it watered or slicked back for a match. In most of the out of ring stuff she'd seen, he was wearing a hat of some kind. She gently bit the inside of her lip as the word 'fluffy' jumped into mind. No self-respecting professional wrestler would want to be labelled fluffy. "Nice to meet you guys, I'll see you around the place." The corners of Jon's mouth turned up into a slight smile, and then his eyes dropped back to his bags. Zane led her out of the room, talking about the purpose of the planning meeting they were about to attend. Claire listened intently, determined to prove her place in the team and on the road. Social media was important, Mr Ambrose, and there is more to it than meets the eye.


	2. 2 Trash

Claire's first week on the road passed in a blur. RAW was intense, which she had predicted but she'd not imagined the almost constant state of flux the show was in. She'd stuck around after the show went off the air to help review the live tweets from fans, before Zane hurried her off to a waiting bus. "Four hours to the next town, girl. I'd get some sleep if I were you." She and the rest of the backstage staff had climbed aboard the waiting buses, and in the black of night the headed to the next town. "Is it always like this?" she'd asked Louise, one of the make up team. "Depends on the schedule, but it's always this pace. Your world has changed now, my dear."

The following day Claire attended a debrief meeting where the engagement stats from RAW were shared with the communications team. This informed that day's tapings of Main Event and Smackdown. It was important to hear what the fans were saying and try to work it into the show which was taped on the night following RAW, but not shown until the Thursday. "It's part a guessing game, it's part listening, but it's also knowing that we have the power here. They're pawns in our game, guys. Between creative and us, we're telling them what they should be thinking and feeling," Zane had said as they crunched numbers and themes, emerging hashtags. Claire thought otherwise. The fans were who you were trying to please, so listen to theme and let them lead you where you need to be going. When it came down to it, to be so crude, the WWE Universe paid all of our bills, so the company must be responsive to them. They were far from a pawn.

Her role on Smackdown was to generate content from interviews conducted by Renee Young, and send them back to Chris at HQ to schedule for Thursday's broadcast. Claire quite enjoyed this. She found Renee welcoming and friendly. She flew home for the 'weekend' – Wednesday and Thursday, the WWE's days off – before heading to Utah for the live events. At the house shows, she monitored hashtags and was ordered to use Snapchat as much as she could. Claire loved it. The crowds responded loudly for their favourites and the matches gave them the chance to see their heroes in action. The hashtags were self-generating and positive. She couldn't wait to head to Salt Lake City for RAW. In just a week she felt like she'd learned a lot, and wanted to see what the next rotation would bring.

In the communications planning meeting, which creative sat in on, each member of the team was allocated matches or storylines to follow. Claire was going to be carrying on from her work with the Divas storyline last week, work on the tag team match mid-way through the show, and do some pre-shoots of Dean Ambrose with his new Intercontinental championship belt. Zane mentioned their key focuses tonight – confident champions, surprise returns and building up the next Pay Per View.

Following the meeting, Claire left to find Ambrose to arrange the pre-shoots. She'd never been to Salt Lake City before, let alone this venue, so navigating the corridors was proving troublesome. On what she felt was her third trip past the catering door, she sighed frustratingly, and turned sharply in the other direction. "Woah, watch it!" She'd nearly caused Ambrose's plate of food to end up on the floor. She felt her cheeks flush. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I've been lost in this rabbit warren forever," she said, flustered. "Well, what are you looking for?" he'd enquired. Claire looked up at him. "Well, you, actually. We've got a pre-shoot." Ambrose nodded. "Follow me, new girl." They walked down the same corridor Claire had ventured up previously, and took a turn behind a curtain. Claire, uncomfortable with the silence, said "So, how's your day been?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Such small talk was pointless with a Superstar. They were busy people with busy lives, and met thousands of people a day. They were also the reason she was here, and doubted they'd want to spend time on pleasantries with the help. His pressed lips, sideways glance and raised eyebrows expressed as much. He chuckled, and to her surprise, answered. "It's gone okay. Same shit, different day, until you get out there and feel the rush." Claire nodded. Mouth shut from now on, she thought. No more need for embarrassment. Ambrose took another at her, biting her bottom lip and avoiding his gaze, and decided to ease her pain. "So, how's yours been?" She snapped up to look at him to see if he was mocking her, but he had tried to convey seriousness. She's the new girl, he thought, I can at least try to settle her down a bit. "It's gone really quickly, actually. Still so much to learn, you know." Ambrose smiled. "Sure. I get it."

They arrived at his locker room where Claire lingered by the door. "So, I was thinking…" Ambrose started as he began fumbling through his bags, "we could do this thing in some scrappy, weird place. Like in the parking lot. Dean Ambrose does weird stuff. He needs to be psyching up in a weird place." Claire thought about the character of Dean Ambrose, and even though Zane had wanted a locker room shot, decided that no one knows the character of Dean Ambrose better than Dean Ambrose. "Sure. That makes sense. Maybe by a rubbish cart or something?" She was looking down at her notes on the type of pose creative wanted. Suddenly his head popped around the door. "Why, do you think I'm trash?" Claire's eyes watched as he pulled a grey singlet down over his head, catching a glimpse of his torso before it disappeared. "No, not at all. Moreso that I'd not expect anyone to be preparing for a match by the trash, so that's exactly where Dean Ambrose should be." He looked at her, rubbing his hand through his hair to scruff it up further. "Exactly. Let's do it."

The pair wandered out to the carpark in near silence, with Claire not knowing what to say. Ambrose was jittery, jumping like he does in the ring, and Claire put it down to getting in character. She appreciated that he was taking this seriously, considering his dislike of this sort of thing. They found a darkened corner of the parking lot, and went about setting up the shot. Ambrose began doing some press ups against the wall, to get the blood flowing and some sweat appearing. When he stood upright, he was by himself. _Where has she gone?_ he thought to himself. Just then, the rubbish cart moved slowly towards him. He heard a small grunt come from behind it, and walked around to see Claire pushing it, legs pumping, low to the ground. It wasn't moving quickly, but it was moving. He folded his arms and looked at her, impressed. Not by the pace, but by the effort. "Nice form. Power could use some work though," he said to her as she positioned it into place. "Can't have it all," Claire quipped, not sure if he was serious in his assessment or insulting her. Ambrose chuckled, and moved beside the cart. "You know what?" Claire said as she moved back to assess the scene. It would look cool if you were sitting on top of it." He did so, and wrapped the title around his forearm. He looked at it intensely – he knew what these social media types were after. He'd done pre-shoots thousands of times. He channelled his character, his crazed focus and long desire to hold this title. He tried to forget anyone else was there. After a couple of minutes, and new poses he directed, they were done.

"These look cool," Claire said, not sure who she was congratulating. "You want to see them?" Ambrose looked at her, sensing an excitement in her voice. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, looking straight at him. Despite not really caring what they looked like, he felt as if saying no to her would might hurt her feelings. "Yeah, sure." They started walking back towards the locker rooms while Claire flicked through a couple, and stopped on one with minimal lighting which she decided was the one. "It's got a weird Joker-like feel to it, don't you think?" Ambrose smirked at the layers this girl seemed to be able to find in a photo. "Kinda. Go for it, you got my approval." Claire felt a buzz run through her body. "Thanks, Ambrose." She felt his eyes on her. "It's Jon, remember?" Claire saw the mocking look on his face. "Sure. I'll call you Jon, if you call me by my name." Ambrose opened his mouth to speak, but stopped in his tracks. _Shit_ , he thought. _It's completely gone._ Claire watched as his eyes narrowed in frustration. "Ambrose it is then," Claire said, trying not to let her victory show too much on her face.

RAW moved with the same manic pace Claire experienced the previous week. She thought she would feel more comfortable after getting the nerves of last week behind her, but now she wasn't the new kid anymore. Zane didn't shadow her like he did last week. She was on her own, expected to meet deadlines and timeframes and deliver everything on her schedule just like anyone else on the team. She did, but a level of internal panic remained throughout the show.

The staff bus pulled into the hotel, and Claire headed towards the elevators. She noticed some of the talent had just arrived back as well, pulling their bags behind them. They piled into an elevator and people jumped out at various floors. At the seventh, Claire squeezed passed Cody Rhodes to get out the doors. She smiled goodnight at the remaining occupants of the elevator, and headed up the hallway. A few seconds later, she heard "Hey, new girl." She spun around to see Ambrose sticking his head out the elevator door. "A group of us are gonna go bowling. Meet in the lobby in 45 minutes."

Author's note: I hope you guys don't mind a slow burn. When I'm reading, I like to have a bit of background. Y'all know Dean's character so these chapters have been about getting to know Claire. Please let me know if you want things to move a bit faster.


	3. Strike

Claire had thought nothing of the invitation until she got to the lobby. A small handful of the roster had already assembled, and Eden smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad you decided to come," she said to Claire, "I thought I was going to have to hold my own against all these men." She chuckled, and Claire couldn't help but smile. Eden was beautiful, she thought to herself, even in jeans and a basic shirt. There sure was a pretty high bar to get on screen in the WWE. Which suited her just fine; she was more than happy working backstage and keeping well away from the cameras. She did a quick headcount, and of the five of them, she was the only one not on the roster. She was staff. Eden's husband Cody stood chatting to Wade Barrett and Dolph Ziggler. If she didn't feel out of place already, next to Eden's beauty, she was now hyperaware she was the only member of staff on this outing.

Ambrose was the last to join the group, which no one else seemed to be surprised by. "So you're up for it then, are you Chloe?" Ambrose had said as he walked past Claire to the front of the group, as they made their way out the hotel entrance. Eden looked sideways at him. "It's Claire, Mox." Claire could picture the sideways grin on his face, even though all she saw was the back of his head. "Yeah, I know," he replied. Claire had a wager on the opposite.

They started the walk to the bowling alley, three blocks away. Claire chatted with Eden on the way, and she was thankful for her presence. Eden was talkative and keen to find out the ins and outs of social media, as she was trying to build up her own profile and website. Once inside the bowling alley, they were led to the private lanes. _Such highrollers,_ Claire thought to herself. She'd never been in the private lanes of a bowling alley before, unless you counted a 7th birthday party she'd been to once before. Teams were drawn on the basis of one girl per team, and Eden and Cody had a rule that they were never on the same team, to avoid bickering. "Seriously," Eden had confided in Claire, "once time we played doubles tennis and we argued all the way home about who was at fault for our loss." Claire smiled. They were clearly in love, there was no doubt about that, but she knew what Eden meant. Couples held on to those kind of things. With that, it meant Cody and Claire would team up, and Barrett had suggested Ambrose join them, seeing as he invited Claire. "You make it sound like a punishment," Claire said as she turned to select a ball. Cody chuckled. "Well, that depends on how good you are." Claire smirked, realising healthy banter was a strong part of their interactions. "That's a fair point. I'm not the greatest." Eden smiled at her and mouthed "neither", shaking her head. That was enough to settle Claire down. She was here now, and they'd spoken to her. If she held her tongue for fear of talking out of place, just because they were on the roster, she'd probably look more of a fool than she would trying to fit in.

She needn't have worried. The group was in a jovial mood and there were constant conversations between and within teams. Music selection dominated the initial few rounds, and then the banter started. Eden had two gutterballs in a row. After talking up his time in alleys all over Europe, Barrett had taken an early lead, but the group had delighted in one turn which only saw him knock down two pins. Claire was holding her own, for now. After she'd taken a turn, she offered to replenish the group's drinks. Dolph had offered to go with her, but Claire went alone. "There's heaps of people out there. None of them know who I am."

When she returned, handing Ambrose his drink, she sat down beside him. "You're not going too bad," he said without looking at her. "It's been a while. Maybe I'll blow the cobwebs off and return to my average ways by the end," Claire laughed. "That's a great attitude," Ambrose muttered. Claire cocked her head. She'd always been good at communication, that's why she'd made it her career. She could work people out and how they preferred to communicate, how best to get through to them. But she'd not worked this guy out yet. A good case study, she thought. Just as she was about to start up conversation with Dolph, Ambrose turned to her. "So, where you from?" And then he turned back towards the lanes. _Does he even care about the answer?_ Claire thought. "Pennsylvania. Went to college in Connecticut." Ambrose half-turned her way. "Oh yeah. Does that make you a Flyers fan?" Claire shook her head. "Penguins, actually. I'm from Wexford." Ambrose snapped his head to look at her. "Really? Jeez, you can go off some people." Claire watched as a wry smile appeared on his face. "Flyers sine way back," he added. Claire shook her head bewilderingly, with a gentle chuckle. "But you're from Ohio." He nodded. "But got into hockey when I was living in Philly. Once I commit, I'm in for life. Flyers are my team." Claire nodded respectfully, his reasoning was sound enough. "You learn something every day," Claire said as she got up to take her turn.

The game was closer than they'd all predicted, with Barrett losing his radar and bravado as it progressed. It all came down to Eden as the last player. She needed six pins to get the win. Between her two balls, she managed to knock over the required number. She jumped in excitement, high-fived her team mates and poked her tongue out at her husband. Claire laughed. It had been a fun night. Beats watching hotel television.

As they were leaving, Ambrose caught a glance of the arcade area. "Hey, Chloe. Air hockey. For the claim to Pennsylvania's best hockey team?" Claire felt a rush of excitement. She was not much of a gamer, couldn't hold an X Box controller to save herself, but she was really good at air hockey. In fact, since she was old enough to not be outdone by her brother's strength, she hadn't lost a game for as long as she could remember. "Sure, you're on." With the rest of the group all watching, she scored four goals to Ambrose's two. As the final buzzer went, his friends cheered and leered in his direction. "That'll teach you, you cocky bastard," Dolph said as they prepared to walk away. "Wait wait wait," Ambrose said. "You never said you were good at this." Claire grinned. "You never asked. Undefeated in five states." Ambrose baulked. "Well, what about the rest of them?" Cody piped up "Well, six now, bro. Just accept it, she kicked your ass." Ambrose looked up at her. "Best of three?" Claire chuckled and shook her head. "Now what's in it for me? I've proved my point. Penguins over Flyers. There's nothing left for me to prove." Ambrose looked at her intently. "Okay. Loser buys dinner." Claire, eyebrows raised, said "I'd just settle for you calling me by my actual name." She walked around the table as he inserted another token. After a long rally, Ambrose scored first, with a cheeky wink in Claire's direction. Her eyes narrowed and she scored three unanswered goals to make it another solid victory. Ambrose let his forehead fall against the table, while Eden high fived Claire. "He will hate that, losing to a chick, in front of his friends. It will grind him for weeks. You should rub it in." Cody backed this up with enthusiastic nodding, and Claire walked past Ambrose towards the door. "Please don't make it best of five, it's past your bedtime." Ambrose looked up at her, still disappointed. "And just so you know, I like Italian food." She winked before walking through the door, laughing with the others.


	4. Initiation

The following day was a travel day. Claire was tired and tried to catch up on some sleep, but Lucy, her colleague and roommate, was enquiring where she'd got to last night. When Claire told her, Lucy couldn't believe it. "And you were the only member of staff who went?" She seemed totally surprised that Claire had received an invite. "I've never got an invite to anything like that. In fact, I don't really know if I've hung out with anyone on the roster outside work. Unless you count an airport lounge." Lucy was intrigued but Claire tried to play it down for two reasons. First, the night had been really relaxed and no one had made an issue about Claire's presence. So she didn't want to make it seem like a big deal. Secondly, she wasn't sure she was up for a major interrogation from Lucy. It had been a busy day yesterday, and a fun night, but later than usual for Claire, particularly with such an early start. Claire deflected best she could and rested her head against the seat to catch some sleep.

Claire was allocated to Main Event, and Zane had asked her to monitor 'leaks' during the Smackdown taping Claire found this quite an interesting but reclusive task, in a cupboard-sized room out the back of the venue. She and Eden had chatted during Main Event, with the announcer commenting how she was still laughing about Ambrose's bruised pride from the night before. "We should catch up, just you and me, for some girl time away from those boys," Eden had said. They exchanged numbers and as Claire was sitting monitoring live tweets, she remembered Lucy's comments about how rare it was to be 'in' with the roster. "They stick to themselves. It's like a club we're not in because we're not on TV. They're all very pleasant and nice to us, but we're not meant to fraternize together."

Claire had worked the Bangor house show, the opposite rotation to Eden, Cody and Ambrose. The following day's RAW was in New Jersey, and Claire had a great time working with the New Day. As she was leaving the arena, she got a text from Eden.  
 _  
"Hey we're gonna head out for a drink, wanna join?"_

Claire would have if she hadn't committed to heading out with Lucy and some of the others on the staff.  
 _"Sorry, already booked. Heading out with some of the comms team. I'll let you know where we end up if you feel like joining us?"_

 _"Thanks but I'll have the boy with me. Maybe next time!"_

Maybe Lucy had been right about the roster not really wanting to fraternize with the staff.

Lucy led the group around town for a while before settling on a buzzing burger bar. "Oh, how convenient," Lucy said, looking deliberately at Claire. "Monday is karaoke night." Claire looked at the group blankly. "You've not been initiated yet. Song of the group's choice in front of a crowd!" yelled Carl, grabbing Lucy's arm. "And it's happening. NOW." Before she could protest Claire was inside, with Lucy registering her name on the singers list. "No one ever said anything about this..." Claire said to Hannah, who was from the broadcast team. "It's true," Hannah said. "Mine was the Barbie Girl song in Minneapolis." Claire shook her course it would an embarrassing song. Lucy hurried back to them, looking quite proud of herself. "Right, you're all set, three people to go before you. I hope you know all the words to The Shoop Shoop song!" Claire could've shrunk into the ground. "Guess that means there's time for a drink. I'm going to need it."

Before long, Claire was on stage, microphone in hand, with the host introducing her. Lucy had apparently told the whole story, so the patrons now knew she was here for an initiation. "Don't worry love, you're not our first. We'll be gentle," winked the host. The grin on his face was more than menacing. As the countdown to the song started, Claire steeled herself. _I'm going to look foolish anyway. May as well go full-hog._ She took a big breath and channelled get best Cher, and gave it everything she had.

Her friends cheered with every attempted high note. Hannah poked her chest out and encouraged her to move around. The drinks had taken the edge off Claire's nerves and she started to jump around, to point and stare at people in the crowd. She was sassing it and having fun. That was until she scanned the crowd and locked eyes with a man in a leather jacket with fluffy hair sticking out from under a black cap. _Really?_ Claire thought to herself. _Out of all the places in the city..._ She'd stopped singing. Noticing her sudden timidness, Ambrose smirked at her, and began clapping sarcastically in time with the rest of the people at his table – Cody and Eden, Roman and Kofi. Shrugging her shoulders and laughing, Claire picked up on the final few lines of song and boogied her way to the finish. The bar applauded warmly, and Claire raised her hand in triumph, smiling first at her friends, then towards Ambrose's table. He was shaking his head.

"Oh my god, you rocked it!" Lucy greeted her with a hug. "It was wonderfully terrible," Carl added, before they announced Claire was officially part of the WWE staff. "Well, the cool ones anyway," Lucy hastened to add. Claire finished her drink and explained to them that the guys from the roster were at the back of the bar. "Oooh, your new buddies," Hannah said, "you should bring them over." Claire didn't think that was a great idea, given Lucy's comments and the way Eden had seemed disinterested in joining them. Just as she was thinking of an excuse to change the subject, there was a tap on her shoulder.

"Girl, you were working it up there!" Claire spun around to see Eden embracing her in a hug. "Not too bad at all!" Eden beckoned the boys over, and they followed Cody's lead. Claire introduced them all to her friends, but then felt stupid for doing so. They'd been working with them for longer than she had. As Cody offered to shout her a drink, she turned to Ambrose. "Any chance we could just forget you saw that?" For the first time since meeting him, she saw him unleash a full-bellied chuckle. "No way, that really was something." Claire felt her cheeks burn, and they turned a shade brighter when she looked at him. She'd not noticed how blue his eyes were, and now his laughter seemed to reach them, giving them a life she'd not seen previously.

The group chatted away until closing time, then headed back to the hotel. Claire was walking with Carl, talking about what rotation they were on for the live events that weekend. Just as they went their separate ways for the evening, Ambrose called Claire back. "So you're heading to Vermont?" "Yeah. Are you?" Claire asked. "Yeah," he replied. "And you know what that means?" Claire's mouth turn upwards with a wicked look in her eye. "Another state to add to my undefeated list?" Ambrose blinked slowly, shaking his head. "No, it means I'll have to start researching Italian cuisine in the area. I'll see you there, Cher."


	5. Scenes from an Italian restaurant

Claire arrived in Vermont and headed straight to the venue. She was allocated to a meet and greet season where Bray Wyatt, the Miz and Paige were meeting some local kids. This kept her busy until doors opened, and she took the required pre-shots to generate the hashtag. On her out to her position just outside the curtain, she bumped into Ambrose. "Hungry?" he asked. "I've made a reservation for after the show." Claire chuckled softly. "You know you don't have to do this. I won't hold it against you. I'm sure you have better ways to spend your evening." "Don't count on that," he said, turning back to look at her. "I'm a man of my word, Claire. Italian tonight on me." With that, he left to get ready for his match, leaving Claire to wonder why she was so intrigued by him saying her name for the first time. A bet is a bet...

The show passed quickly, with Ambrose v Owens the main event. As Claire was packing up, Ambrose swung by. "I'm gonna hit the showers and then do you wanna go from here? I've got a rental." Claire looked down at her attire. "I'm not really dressed for it," she said, beckoning her dark jeans and black WWE polo. "Christ's sake woman it's not a Michelin restaurant, it's an Italian joint in Vermont." Ambrose said, undoing his wrist tape. "Besides, you look okay." Claire gave a short, firm nod. Ambrose took off down the hall. "Back door in twenty."

Claire felt her stomach rumble. This was a late dinner. She was glad she'd decided to wear a singlet under her work polo tonight. She threw a cardigan over the top of the singlet, shook her hair out of its ponytail and made her way towards the door. _At least I'll not look like his assistant during dinner_ , she thought. Any qualms she had about her outfit were put to rest when she saw Ambrose. He was in jeans, old t shirt and his trusty leather jacket, with a knit hat pulled over his hair. _Excellent. Casual,_ Claire thought.

Ambrose struggled with programming the GPS unit so Claire offered to navigate from her phone. "So long as you don't see that as another strike against my manhood," Ambrose said. "I didn't count the game as one," she replied. "Would be mean to. You didn't know who you were up against." Ambrose glanced at her quickly. "Clearly not. How did you get so good anyway? It's not a sought after skill." Claire told him about her father winning a table in a competition when she and her brother were young. "It was the source of many a triumph and tragedy. It kept us occupied for years. We made our own Stanley Cup and everything. It was my party trick at college. Won me quite a few free drinks." Ambrose rolled his eyes. "And now a dinner. You're like a Venus fly trap of table hockey."

************************************

The restaurant wasn't quite as low brow as Ambrose had suggested, and Claire wished she was wearing something a little more appropriate than jeans. Still, alongside him she didn't look out of place, and they were led to a booth towards the back. Most diners were finishing their meal or desserts, given it was late. "I asked them to put us at the furthest table away from others," Ambrose said. "Looks like we might have it to ourselves soon anyway." They ordered drinks and an entree each, and when Claire ordered the cabonara, Ambrose raised his eyebrows. "What?" Claire asked innocently. "I'm hungry!" He chuckled and ordered the seafood pasta.

"So, shall we toast?" Claire asked, breaking a short period of silence. "Toast what, exactly?" Ambrose enquired, taking in the grin on her face. "To the Pens being Pennsylvania's top team." He took in her broadening smile and the spark of fun that appeared in her eyes. She looked different with her hair down, he thought. More casual relaxed. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her without her WWE uniform on, and this was the most authentic he'd seen her. A thought passed through his brain that he was seeing off the clock Claire, rather than running round getting shit done Claire. He liked that. That smile suited her. "Snowballs chance in hell, girl," he replied to her proposed toast. "However, I do suggest we toast something while we're here. To new beginnings," he said, raising his glass towards her. "New beginnings?" Claire questioned. "Yeah. You, in your job. This is a big deal for you, right?" Claire smiled softly. "Yeah, it really is. I worked hard for this." With that, she raised her glass to his, and they smiled at each other. Claire noticed a small wave of something run through her body, but as quick as she had acknowledged it, it was gone.

After he asked, she told him about her college years, why she'd felt it was important to get out of home. "Don't get me wrong, I love my parents. My mom is my best friend. But I needed to do things myself, you know? Living at home would've saved me some money but I don't think I'd be here now. That first year away from home was a steep learning curve, mostly in the kitchen." They laughed and Ambrose nodded, as if he knew what she was talking about there. "I don't think I'd be as independent or worldly if I stayed at home. All of that is certainly helping now." Ambrose nodded. He respected that. He'd learned all those lessons the hard way and much earlier than she did, in much harder circumstances. But it will kill the buzz to start telling her the story of his upbringing now. Plus, he hadn't intended on this being This Is Your Life. He did find hearing about her college life interesting, however. It was a life he'd never dreamed of. _Not smart enough for that_ , he thought.

Claire had told him what life was like at WWE HQ as well, then asked "And what about you? I got my education at college, but where'd you get yours?" He looked at her inquisitively. How did she have a way with words that made him want to tell her everything? He hardly knew her. She was looking at him with her eyes wide, with an openness in her face that said she wouldn't judge his answers. "Tell me about the indies. I bet that was an education in itself. And not just in the ring."

As they ate, Ambrose told her stories of his time in the indies. About fitting six guys into a car and driving through the night to make the next show. About putting his body through hell for barely enough money to pay for gas. About getting screwed over by promotors, making friends with the other guys, and the crazy times they had. Claire listened, intrigued by his stories and his persistence. "So there was never a time you were exasperated by not getting a pro offer?" Ambrose sighed. "All the time. Wondering when you'd get paid enough to eat proper food, fix the car, how you'd ever be able to afford a house. When I was stitching my own nipple back on with only fifty bucks in my pocket, that was a rough patch." Claire's eyes widened at that moment. "So why? What made you keep at it?" Ambrose smiled gently. "I love it. Since I first watched professional wrestling I've loved the athleticism, the showmanship, the bravery. It's all I ever wanted to do, and even if I wasn't earning much, I was happier than I'd have been stuck behind a desk. And it's all I've ever known. I couldn't have done anything else." Claire nodded. She could hear the passion in his voice, and certainly couldn't picture him as an accountant or telesalesman.

Claire wrapped the last few strands of pasta around her fork and ate them, then looked up at Ambrose. "Wow, impressive," he said, motioning at her empty plate. Claire didn't understand. "You totally demolished that." Claire laughed. "You've not seen a girl eat pasta before?" she asked sarcastically. "Moreso that it's hard to find a girl who acknowledges her appetite and orders more than a salad." "Well, said Claire, "those girls are probably trying to impress you." Ambrose, without missing a beat, asked "So you're not trying to impress me?" Claire scoffed. "I don't need to. I already have, you doubted my ability to finish that pasta and I smashed it." Ambrose smiled. It really was novel to hear a girl talk that way about food. "I certainly wasn't going to waste free Italian food. If I'm going to impress you, I'd hope it was with my work rather than my appetite." Ambrose nodded. Social media sure didn't impress him, but she seemed to work hard. She'd certainly put effort in getting to know everyone and making sure they felt like they were contributing to how they were being portrayed. He'd not heard a bad word about her, yet, and that was pretty impressive.

Ambrose called for the bill and the pair walked out to the rental car. "Thanks for dinner, Ambrose. That was quite nice," Claire said. "Well, I'm nothing if not a man of my word," he replied. "But tell me, when do I get to be Jon?" From the driver's seat he watched as that smirk appeared on her face, the one that travelled up to her eyes, and found himself smiling too. "Okay. Thank you for the nice meal, Jon," she said, with emphasis on his name. "And the company."

The return to the hotel was filled with a comfortable silence, the type shared between people with full bellies who were content with how they spent their night. Once they parked up, they got in the elevator and went to their floor. "Straight to sleep now?" Ambrose asked Claire, feeling he had to break the silence. "Yeah," she replied, not realizing how late it was. "What about you?" Ambrose thought on that for a second, before replying "Same. I'll be out like a light." There was no awkwardness as he stopped outside room 415. "This is me. I'll catch you tomorrow, maybe." Claire smiled pleasantly. "Maybe," she replied, turning to head up the hallway to 420. "Goodnight Jon".


	6. The Master

The alarm blared in Ambrose's ear and rattled his brain. _6.30am already?_ he questioned. It had taken him longer to get to sleep than he'd planned, he couldn't switch his brain off. The last time he'd checked the clock it was 2.17am, but now it was time to hit the hotel gym. He grumbled to himself as he got dressed, slipped his workout hat on and headed downstairs. He wasn't overly excited about hotel gyms, but this one had looked alright when he checked it out yesterday. Its cardio section looked out over the half size lap pool and the machinery seemed near-new. He'd seen and used a lot worse.

He did a dynamic warm up before hitting a circuit of press ups, arm exercises and chest work. He hit the skipping rope for a few minutes, before finishing with sprint intervals on the treadmill. To keep his mind distracted, he watched the lone figure in the pool; up, turn, down, turn, up, turn, down. It was quite rhythmical to watch. As he warmed down on a bike, he noticed the person get out of the pool. A lady. Being the red-blooded male he was, he took a quick scan of her. Shapely legs led into a high cut one piece swimsuit, and a firm ass. Curved hips covered by the grey and white swimsuit, over a flat stomach and up to the rounded shapes of her breasts. Nipples hard from the change of temperature, he noted as she towelled herself off. Just as he was about to look away, she took off the goggles and swim cap which had been hiding her most definitive features. Ambrose gulped slightly as he realized it wasn't just a random hotel guest he'd been assessing with such voyeurism. It was Claire. A small wave of guilt washed over him, made worse by the fact Claire, completely oblivious to the person watching from the gym, put her robe back on and left the pool complex. If she'd looked his way, Ambrose would've smiled and waved, to make it look like he'd known it was her all along, and trying to grab her attention. But she was none the wiser, and now he felt slightly uneasy about objectifying her. But damn, he thought, she looked pretty good in that swimsuit.

Claire was tired but had always believed a morning swim was a good way to wake up. She'd always loved swimming and working for the WWE had surprisingly provided more opportunities to get in a pool than she had thought. She made the most of free hotel pools where she could, and it was doing wonders for her fitness. She was feeling and looking fitter and stronger than ever. Although the running around backstage at the shows with barely time to eat was probably assisting with that. After a shower, she packed her things and headed to the airport, ready to fly to New Jersey for RAW.

Waiting at the gate, Claire was writing a debrief report from last night's social media activity when the boarding call rang out. Packing her laptop away, she took a look around the lounge and saw no sign of Ambrose. Why wasn't he there? She had been keeping an eye out for him but hadn't noticed how fine he was cutting it. She couldn't call or text to see where he was, she didn't have his number. There was no need, she didn't have the number of anyone else on the roster, besides Eden. Maybe he'd slept in after their late night? She took one final look over her shoulder as she headed down the air bridge.

Once she'd settled in her seat, Claire asked her colleagues if they'd seen him. They shook their heads and returned to their magazines and music. Claire sighed, not much she could do about it now. Just as she was wondering what the repercussions would be of the Intercontinental Champion not showing up for the flagship programme of the week, she saw him being ushered through the plane door by staff. Looking slightly relieved and flustered, he slowed as he walked to his seat, thankful that he'd made the flight. Claire caught his eye as he walked down the aisle, raising her eyebrows questioningly, a wry grin on her face. Ambrose shrugged innocently and wiped his brow, giving her a mischievous wink as a hostess ushered him to his seat.

Claire waited for Ambrose once she'd left the plane. "Tell me it's at least a good story," she said to him as they walked. "I wish I could," he replied. "Ain't no reason other than I'm hopeless with time." As they were processed through the airport and awaited luggage, they compared schedules for the day. Ambrose was surprised to learn her role required meetings and reports and planning. "You don't just take a photo and put it on Twitter for no reason. Everything has a purpose," she was saying as a guy approached them. "Hey Dean, can I please have a picture?" Ambrose smiled and agreed, suggesting that instead of a selfie, Claire take the photo for them. She shot him an annoyed look, but took two or three snaps of the pair. "I'm not on the clock just yet, you know," she said jokingly. "I know," he replied. "But now that kid will put that on Twitter or Instagram or MySpace and populate your hashtag or whatever." Claire smiled. He had no idea, but he got it.

They said their goodbyes as Claire got on the bus to the venue, where the meeting was scheduled in an hour, and Ambrose headed to the hotel. He watched as she walked away. She was back in her 'uniform'; jeans and a WWE polo, with a light sweater overtop, and her hair tied on top of her head. Looking different from who he had dinner with last night, and who he had seen at the pool this morning. He took a quick look at her as she boarded the bus, and decided her ass looked even sweeter in those jeans than in her swimsuit. How had he not noticed before? He told himself to keep a look out at the venue tonight.

Claire didn't see Ambrose during RAW. She had been allocated to cover a Make a Wish family before the show, and the Authority throughout. She'd not had any time for pre-shoots so was working with Stephanie and Triple H on the fly. Stephanie pulled rank and decided to change the setting and theme of the content, which had Claire thrown for a minute, before she reassessed the plan and found a way to work it. Stephanie thanked her, and was pleased with what they produced. Claire smiled internally. Praise from the boss and she was still considered the kid on the block. She'd idolized Steph since being with the WWE. A successful woman in a man's world who didn't feel the need to flash her assets to make her point. Sure, her lineage helped, but she was one of the most enduring heels the company had seen. She did bad so well, but was extremely pleasant. She was more than her on-screen character, knowing all about the business of the company too. And three kids to top it off. Claire figured she could have worse role models and mentors.

Eden had text earlier in the day to arrange a catch up after the show, and the two women headed to a bar next to the hotel they were staying in for a wine. "So, Ambrose took you to dinner?" she asked. Claire was surprised she knew already. "Does news travel quickly around this place or something?" Eden laughed. "Cody text him to make sure he didn't pull out. But generally, yes. News travels insanely fast. But don't worry, we've not told anyone." Claire frowned suspiciously. "Why would I need to worry?" A smirk appeared on Eden's face. "So people don't think you're the next victim of the Titty Master." Claire almost gagged on her wine. "The what?!" Both ladies giggled. "Titty Master. It's a name which started in the indies and followed him through the ranks. I have no idea how it started but it's one which has stuck." Claire shook her head. "Well I don't think I have any concerns there. We hardly know each other. We only went to dinner because we had to, technically." Eden turned her head inquisitively. "Ambrose is a good friend of ours and I know he wouldn't have taken you out if he didn't want it to happen. Bet or no bet, you can't force that man to do anything he doesn't want to." Claire took this in, then added "I think he wanted to clear his debt, his conscience. At no stage was there any inference to any titties being mastered." They laughed, but Claire felt something nagging in her mind. "So tell me, if people found out we'd had dinner together, they'd assume the worst? Is that the type of reputation he has?" She wasn't concerned about his reputation, more so hers. She'd come this far in the company without sleeping with anyone and she wasn't going to start now. She didn't want anyone to question her professionalism. Eden's tone changed. "Honey, it would be about him, not you. He's a single man on the road, with thousands of women lining up to spend a night with him in any city we go to. You can't blame him for having a little fun." Claire agreed, sounded like a dream for a red-blooded single male. "And don't worry," Eden continued. "I don't think you're his type. He seems to go for the less intelligent, more...scantily clad types." They laughed, and conversation spiralled into the world of fangirls and the lengths they'd go to to be noticed or try it on with the guys. "I've been standing right next to Cody when someone has propositioned him! When he pointed that out to her, this girl said 'I'd be open to that!'" The pair laughed, and finished their wine, Claire thinking how horrible it would be to be a WWE wife living at home with the kids, and not knowing what, or who, your husband was doing in whatever city he was in.

As Claire returned to her room, Lucy asked her where she'd been. Claire told her and Lucy nodded silently. "You wanna go for a run in the morning? The bus isn't til 10," Lucy suggested. "Sure, that sounds great," Claire replied, and the smile came back to Lucy's face. Claire hoped that it wasn't always going to feel like she'd cheated on Lucy when she hung out with the roster. _This isn't high school,_ she thought. As she turned in for the night, she found herself smirking over the ridiculousness of Ambrose's nickname. _Thank goodness he didn't even look at mine_ , she thought as she drifted off to sleep.


	7. Second Guessing

The following morning Ambrose was waiting in reception for their travel manager to tell him which bus he needed to get on. He was chatting to Roman and Dolph when he noticed Claire walk through the hotel doors. She was red in the face, sweaty with wind-swept hair. She was with that other social media girl, her name escaped him. _Lily?_ He deducted they must've been running. She looked the same as Claire. Except she didn't. The other girl looked like she needed a good rest and a stiff drink. She looked tired and gross. Claire, while equally sweaty and tired, looked almost radiant, he thought. He wouldn't want to touch the other girl right now, but Claire…. She just carried herself differently. She looked great. She was wearing a light grey t shirt and tight Lycra pants, which accentuated the shape of her legs. Ambrose knew what they looked like under there and found himself recalling her high cut swim suit.

Claire smiled at him and raised her eyebrows quickly. The other girl smiled too, and then they disappeared into the elevator lobby. Ambrose took a glimpse at Claire as she walked away, then turned back to rejoin the conversation. He, Roman, Dolph, and Paige were getting on an early bus to the next stop for Smackdown, as they had some media and meet and greet commitments awaiting them. He found himself wondering if any of the social media team would be there to cover them. Before long, the group was being loaded onto a minibus and driving the two hours to Smackdown.

Ambrose next saw Claire on the weekend for the live events. This weekend, their group had the double schedule, with a show in Hartford on the Friday night and a show in Providence on the Sunday. She knocked on his locker room door and told him he needed to pose for Snapchat. "Out of all of them, I think that is the biggest waste of time," he told her, as he put on his Dean Ambrose hoodie for the shot. To his surprise, Claire agreed. "I don't think it's as valuable a platform for us as Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, but that's where the kids are so you have to meet them there. Now what do you want to do? Anything in particular?" she asked. He chuckled. "You're sounding very business-like today." She apologised. "I've just got a whole heap of stuff to do. I'm on my own here this weekend so I'm taking care of everything. Which seemed okay until I actually had to start doing it." Ambrose nodded. "Well, what type of shots work best for me, do you think?" Claire answered quicker than he thought. "I can tell you for a fact that images of you looking crazy, with the crazy hair and crazy eyes, they get the most engagement. So, channel that lunatic and let's make some magic." Ambrose smiled, and took a minute to pump himself up, to get his game face on. Claire took a few regular pictures and then the Snapchat to send out to the crowd, who were making their way into the venue. "Excellent," she said. "How do you just snap in and out of that so quickly?" He turned to her. "How did you know what type of pictures get the most interaction so quickly? It's your job, right? Well, it's my job to roll in and out of the loony bin several times a week." She went to leave, and he found himself asking, before he could stop himself, "So, what are you doing tonight?" Claire said over her shoulder "Catching up with some college friends. They're coming to the show tonight, and then we're gonna head out for a catch up." With that, she walked up the hall, leaving Ambrose to prepare for his match.

Claire didn't stay out late with her friends. It was nice to see them, but being the only social media person on the road this weekend, she had a report to write and Zane had requested a short article for the website. She was back to the hotel before midnight, deciding to hit the hotel gym in the morning. There was no pool at this place, which meant she'd have to brave the gym. She'd made the mistake early on in her time on the road of going to the hotel gym at the same time as some of the roster. She'd never felt more out of place. There was grunting and peacocking and posturing, and Claire found herself most comfortable jogging on the treadmill with her back to them. The intensity of their workouts intimidated her, so she stuck to cardio. She planned to go early in the hope that most of the roster, knowing they had the following day off, would plan their workouts a little later in the day. And it worked; when she got to the gym at 6.15am, she had it to herself. She turned her music up loud to help get her in the mood, and hit the rowing machine first up. Exercising in the morning was best for her, so she could get it out of the way before her brain realised what she was doing. She often felt like she dozed through some of her workouts, not quite sure how she got from one point to another while still half asleep. She was sometimes oblivious to her surroundings. That's why cardio was safe too – if her brain switched off on the rower, at least she'd just stop moving, and not drop a bar full of weights on her chest or something. As she rowed, she thought about her day – writing the report over a coffee in the hotel café seemed like a great idea. She might be able to read some of her book, and wander through Hartford this afternoon. She hit her 15 minute time on the machine and came to a slow stop. She unbuckled her feet from the straps, took a swig or two of her water, and stood up, exhaling loudly. As she turned towards the stretching area, she saw a man standing about two feet away from her, and she jumped in shock. "Holy shit, Ambrose, you gave me a fright!"

Ambrose hadn't been in the room long. He'd woken early thanks to his body clock, and decided to hit the gym before it got busy. He noticed Claire just finishing up on the rowing machine, and thought he would avoid the awkward voyeurism of the swimming pool incident by making his presence known early this time. "Working hard, I see?" he asked Claire. The poor girl got a huge fright to see him there, lost in her own world of music and rowing. "Yeah," she replied. "For this hour of the morning anyway. Why are you here so early?" Ambrose told her he was a creature of habit. "So you're a bit of a gym fiend, then? I saw you were out running the other day." Claire scoffed. "I wouldn't call myself that, no. I just do what I have to do so I can eat Italian food." They both grinned. "I can't stand weights. Like, I know their important, but I can't really do them by myself. I just lose interest. I went to a bootcamp in Stamford, which was the only way I actually did weights. When everyone else was doing it too and someone was yelling at me." Ambrose laughed. "I don't believe you," he said flat out. Claire was looking at him confused. "Look, I don't wanna sound like a creep or anything, but I've seen the size of your thigh muscles." _Uh oh_ , he thought immediately. _That came out wrong._ Claire looked a little bashful for a moment, and glanced down at her legs. Ambrose panicked. He didn't mean to insult her – what he'd wanted to say was that she had powerful looking legs, not massive thighs. _Girls don't like that, you asshole,_ he admonished himself. "I mean, I th-think that your legs are fine, I just…" he stumbled over himself. _Get a grip, Mox. What the hell?_ Claire stopped him. "Actually, these chunky thighs, you wanna know where they came from?" Ambrose nodded slightly. "Sure." Claire looked a bit sheepish. "It's probably just another thing you'll think makes me a nerd." Ambrose cocked his head. "Whoever said I think you're a nerd?" Claire smiled softly. "Hold your judgement until you hear this." He watched as she took a swig of her water. "In a previous life, I was a ballroom dancer. Dancing in heels six days a week sure gives you some shape in your legs." She was looking at him cautiously, as if she expected him to run away screaming. Ambrose didn't know what to say. He did think ballroom dancing was kind of nerdy. But if it had given her that body, then it must be a pretty good workout. "I totally wouldn't have put you as a dancer," he said, deciding that was the safest answer. Claire chuckled. "It's been a while. And it's why you'll never see me in a pair of heels again. I used up my quota by the age of 19." Ambrose took a look at her legs again, and said "Well, it looks like it did you the world of good." If she wasn't glowing in the face from her workout, he could've sworn she was blushing. "Thanks. Anyway, I've got a few more exercises to do and then a day full of work to get through. I'll leave you to your workout." Ambrose watched her as she went to grab a swiss ball and started some crunches. He chastised himself. _Great, now she thinks you're a perve and a creep._ Ambrose plugged in his music and set about his own workout, with only the occasional glimpse over at Claire.

Later, after a shower and breakfast, Claire set herself up at a table in the café. She had her notes from last night with her, and set about writing her report. Usually it would take a couple of hours to analyse the information and put it into real-world speak, but she was happy for this to take a bit longer. She had a whole day to kill, and was feeling a bit worn out after her workout. As she sipped her coffee, she found herself recalling the conversation she'd had with Ambrose. She couldn't believe she told him about her dancing. _He will think that is so uncool,_ she thought to herself. But why should that matter? She didn't care what he thought of her, did she? No, of course not. His opinion didn't bother her. But it would be nice if people didn't think she was uncool. Maybe she should challenge him to more table hockey so he remembered how badass she was in that realm. She chuckled to herself. _Thank god no one can hear this mess inside my head._ She was glad she had worn a baggy college t shirt to the gym that morning, rather than her running singlet. Her chest was well-covered from his Mastering ways. _Don't flatter yourself,_ she said internally. _He's surrounded by all these beautiful Divas, why would he even bother?_ She reminded herself that she wasn't here to be anyone's eye candy, and this weekend was a chance to prove to Zane she knew her stuff and was capable of completely running a live event schedule on her own.

After she'd finished her report, she was walking around Hartford, taking in Saturday shoppers and forgetting about work. She browsed a few shops, spent longer than she should've in a pet shop overflowing with puppies, when the local cinema caught her eye. As part of a "90s Kid" series, tonight they were showing _The Mighty Ducks_. She couldn't believe her luck. That was the movie that made her and her brother fall in love with hockey. She wasn't the type to go to the movies by herself, but with no other plans tonight, and Lucy and Carl not on this rotation with her, it was either movies by herself or staying in for the night. She took note of the start time and decided she would come back later.

Claire returned to her room to find a note slipped under her door.  
 _You said your squad wasn't around tonight. Hit me up if you wanna head out somewhere. Jon.  
_ First of all, don't use the term 'squad' ever again, please. It was like 'on fleek' to Claire, a horrid Hollywood term which implied a sense of idiocy. Second, does she want to spend the night with Ambrose? She had quite been looking forward to going to the movie. And what would people think if she spent another night in the company of the Titty Master? Claire thought about her options while showering, and decided that with Roman, Dolph and Cody on the other rotation, Ambrose didn't exactly have his 'squad' around this weekend either. She sent him a text message to the number he'd left on the note.  
 _Hey. Saw that the local cinema is playing the original Mighty Ducks movie at 8pm. That's my plan for the night. If you're keen, just let me know.  
_ Claire remembered that he didn't have her number. So followed up her message with:  
 _This is Claire, by the way.  
_ A minute later, a reply beeped on her phone.  
 _Damn, I thought maybe I was getting unsolicited offers from random ladies and would need to change my number again._ Claire smirked. He was nothing if not confident in himself. A second later, another message came through. _Sounds great though. Love that movie. Meet you in the lobby at 7?  
_ Claire gave it a minute or two before she replied, making it seem like she wasn't hanging out for his response.  
 _Sure. See you then.  
_ Claire started doing her hair when another reply appeared on her phone.  
 _Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack….  
_ She smiled. He might be a womaniser from all accounts, but he was funny.

Claire was surprised to see Ambrose already waiting for her in the lobby. He'd just told her a few days before he was bad with time. "Wasn't expecting to be waiting for you," he said with a grin. "It's not even 7 yet!" she cried in defence. They wandered towards the cinema and stopped at a local bar for a quick drink. "My shout," Claire said. Ambrose tried to refuse, but she wanted to show that she wasn't expecting him to pay for everything just because he earned more than she did. _Plus_ , she thought, _it helped to eliminate any inkling he may have that this is a date._ As they drank, they chatted about the movie. "I remember watching it at school one day," Ambrose said. 'It was the last day before summer break and I think the teacher had long checked out, so we just sat and watched movies all day." Claire nodded. "I fell in love with it and I think I watched our VHS copy about 100 times." Ambrose laughed. "So were you a Charlie fan? A little bit of Josh Jackson take your fancy?" Claire blushed. "Wanna hear something even more embarrassing than the dancing?" Ambrose raised his eyebrows. "Is that possible?" he asked, elbowing her gently to prove he was having a laugh. "Well, I think so. I was so besotted by the movie, and Adam Banks, that I re-wrote the entire movie with an extra character, Sarah, which I imagined I would play. Charlie's sister and Adam's girlfriend." She laughed, and Ambrose joined her. "Sorry," he giggled. "That is pretty lame." Claire roared with laughter. "It's really lame! And what's worse is that I did the same for the following two movies as well!" Ambrose shook his head. "You needed a hobby!" Claire smiled softly. "Writing and hockey were my two hobbies, so I combined them." Ambrose laughed, and asked what this Sarah got up to. "Well, she was Charlie's conscience and Adam's sweetheart who was the first one to make him feel at home in the Ducks. And then, in a nod to my ten year old inner feminist, she became vice captain and won them a game somewhere along the way, when the other teams didn't think they should be playing girls." The pair laughed, and Claire couldn't believe she'd shared that. "I've not told anyone that in a long time. I think my mom read out some of the cheesy lines at my 21st and then I made her throw them away." Ambrose casually, touched her arm and said "Don't worry. If I could spell, I'm sure I would've done the same with some old wrestling promos. I used to jump off our sofa and on to the floor like the guys I saw on TV. I used to recite Ultimate Warrior promos on my way to school." Claire nodded. She could see a little Ambrose doing exactly that.

The movie was just as Claire remembered. She was able to recite almost every line. She found Ambrose smirking at her from time to time. She didn't care. She loved this movie. It reminded her of her childhood, when she had no responsibilities and was able to dream. As the credits began to roll, Claire got up out of her seat, only to feel Ambrose pull her down again. Baffled, she looked at him. "Let's just wait for some of the crowd to clear a bit. Please." Claire felt a bit embarrassed. She didn't even think about how going out at peak time on a Saturday night would be for him. They sat until the lights came on in the theatre, and then walked into the lobby. Within seconds, Claire could hear people saying his name. A few pulled their phones out and took snaps, and she found herself falling back a step to make sure she wasn't in them. Then one person came up and asked for a picture, then another, then another. Ambrose searched over the top of the growing crowd for Claire. He shrugged, and she smiled gently, hoping he realised that she didn't mind. She took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, and when she re-emerged, it was like the crowd hadn't dissipated at all. Ambrose was signing and smiling for photos in every direction. Even the cinema staff were getting in on the action. After about ten minutes, when he'd signed the last shirt, he wandered over to Claire, and apologised. "Sorry about that," he said. "Should've warned you." Claire shook her head. "No, I should've thought about it. Probably the stupidest time of the week for you to try and see a movie without being interrupted." They walked back towards their hotel, chatting about tomorrow night's show. As they waited at an intersection, they heard a small voice say "Daddy look! It's Dean Ambrose!" Ambrose didn't turn his head, but Claire did. Holding on to his father's hand was a small boy of about seven. He had a Dean Ambrose hat on and eyes wide at seeing a WWE Superstar right in front of him. Claire elbowed Ambrose. "Come on, he's like seven years old. And totally adorable." Ambrose rolled his eyes at her and turned around. "Hey buddy, how you doing?" he said, shaking the boy's hand. The kid was so excited he could hardly say anything. Claire offered to take a photo of the three together, and he signed the boy's comic book as the only paper he had on him. The father thanked Ambrose profusely, and then Claire and Ambrose headed in the opposite direction. Claire took a look over her shoulder to see the boy bouncing with excitement, looking at his comic book as if it was the most precious gold.

"I wish I could do that," she said to Ambrose as they neared their hotel. "Do what?" he asked, not sure what she was referring to. "Make someone's day." Ambrose scoffed. "You get a bit over it when people are interrupting your life every five minutes." Claire's brow furrowed. "I don't see it that way. Maybe you don't remember what it's like to be a fan, but I see it every day. The Universe, their tweets and responses to our content… There are so many people out there who would kill to meet you, to have a photo with you. You guys don't realise that ten seconds of your time can make someone's day. Hell, I reckon you just made that kid's year. He'll probably sleep with that comic tonight. It'll be his show and tell and he'll always remember that. To him, you're a hero, and you just gave him the best moment of his life. That's a real superpower." Claire saw his face change. "Yeah, you're right. It's hard to remember that when it happens all the time. I guess I don't think of it that way," he said to her. "But don't be so hard on yourself," he added quickly. "I'm sure make someone's day regularly too." Claire looked at him and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. _Don't let him, Claire, don't fall for it…._ She didn't reply, just gave him a soft smile.

As they entered the elevator, Ambrose asked her plans for tomorrow. The entire WWE group was travelling to Providence on a bus at 10.30am. "I might try and fit in a workout in the morning," Claire said, "and then it'll be reviewing notes and prep for the show." Ambrose nodded. "You want to grab a meal after the show?" Claire felt a wash of unease pass through her. "Why?" she asked him. Ambrose, confused, asked "Why not?" Claire shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Text me in the morning." Claire got out of the elevator at her floor, and said goodnight to Ambrose, leaving him to wonder what the hell that was all about.


	8. Secrets

Ambrose spent an hour or so going over Claire's strange behaviour in the elevator. He didn't understand why she suddenly questioned his motives about wanting to have dinner with her. Especially when they'd had another fun night together. It was weird. He tried to think back to see if he'd done anything wrong throughout the night, and nothing sprang to mind. He did have to ask himself why he wanted to have dinner with her again, though. He'd not spent this much time with a one woman for a long time, especially without taking her to bed. He couldn't put his finger on it, exactly. He certainly enjoyed her company, and she had a captivating way of seeing the world. Refreshing for someone who had been on the road for as long as he had. And she was nice to look at as well, so she did tick a few boxes. He thought about how long it had been since he took a girl back to his room. About a month, he figured. That was a pretty dry spell for him. He hadn't even really noticed. He'd been too busy hanging out with Claire. And when thought about that, he didn't really mind. There was something about that girl, he wasn't quite sure what. He wanted to spend more time with her, but he didn't want to mess around with her. This was a novel feeling for him, and he didn't know how to label it.

His alarmed blared at 5.45am. He wanted to be in the gym, working hard, when Claire went down for her workout. He started with some boxing, then moved on to some lunges. Claire still hadn't shown by 6.30, and by the time he'd gone through his workout, while a handful of others had entered the gym, Claire wasn't one of them. He couldn't stay any longer; he needed to shower and pack, have breakfast and be ready for the bus. He went back up to his room, trying to squash his disappointment.

When he boarded the bus, late, he noted Claire sitting halfway down talking to one of the merchandise team. She didn't even look his way. He sat towards the front of the bus, and pulled out his phone, plugging into his music, and composing a text message to Eden.  
 _Hey. Have you said anything to Claire about me?  
_ Within a few minutes, he had his reply.  
 _\- Ummmm, like what?  
_ Ambrose noted that she didn't say no. So he must've been a topic of conversation at some point.  
 _I don't know. Something that would make her act a little differently around me.  
\- Different like what?  
Well, she seems to be a little hesitant around me now. And I was wondering why.  
\- Look, she and I did talk about the Titty Master on Monday night, but she didn't seem to be affected by it. Why should she be?  
_Ambrose shut his eyes tightly in anger. _That'll be it_. God knows what Claire had been told.  
 _Well, that explains it. She probably thinks I'm a player with no respect for women.  
\- How has she been acting? Have you given her any reason to think that's what you are?  
_He thought about this. He other than the badly-worded compliment about her legs, he'd not commented on any aspect of her appearance, as far as he could recall. He hadn't come on to her, he hadn't touched her, he hadn't implied anything sleazy. Because he always felt like he was talking to someone so much smarter than him, he didn't think any of those tricks would've worked anyway.  
 _Well, we went to a movie last night and everything was fine, until I asked if she wanted to grab a meal after the show tonight and then she's been a bit weird since.  
\- What did she say about dinner?  
She said she would go.  
\- So what's the problem?  
_He thought about that. There wasn't a problem with that.  
 _And then she didn't show at the gym this morning.  
\- Did she say she would?  
_That was a fair point. She said she would try to fit in a workout, she didn't say if it would be in the gym, or just for a run. Or hell, maybe she did some yoga shit in her hotel room.  
 _No, not exactly.  
\- Sounds to me like you're making something out of nothing. Chill out, Mox.  
_Eden was right. Now he'd spoken to someone else about it, he realised he probably sounded stupid.  
 _\- Anyway, I told her she needn't be worried about the Master. She's not your type._  
Ambrose frowned.  
 _What's that supposed to mean?_  
 _\- Even you have to admit that she's far too much of a lady for you. You definitely have a type, Mox, and Claire is far too intelligent and sophisticated to fall into your trap._  
He knew she was right about Claire, but wasn't sure what she was implying about him.  
 _So I'm just a womaniser who should stick to the drunken bar girls?  
\- That's not what I'm saying. I just think that Claire, if she's looking at all, wouldn't be looking to be an addition to your tap-and-gap list. Besides – why do you care?  
_He didn't reply, because he didn't know the answer to that himself. He just knew that he had to show Claire that he wasn't as bad as she'd heard. Just as he was about to close his eyes for the remainder of the trip, his phone buzzed once again.  
 _\- If I didn't know any better, I'd think the Master has a soft spot for the new girl….._  
He rolled his eyes.  
 _Quit it, Brandi. No need to get carried away. Try your matchmaking with someone else._

When they arrived in Providence, Ambrose waited for Claire to get off the bus. She was wearing an oversized Penguins hoodie, which gave him the perfect starter. "Hope you're not planning on wearing that out tonight," he said. She smiled. "I just might, thanks for the suggestion." She seemed to be herself this morning, he thought. None of that strange scepticism of last night. "I didn't see you in the gym this morning," he said questionly. Claire looked sheepish. "Yeah, I couldn't be bothered," she said coyly. "That's why I'm not the professional athlete. A sleep in, coffee in bed and reading my book sounded like a much better idea." She smirked, and he noticed it in her eyes. People were always commenting on how blue his eyes were, and he wondered if they looked like hers did now – with a palpable light and ability to tell their own story. She turned to him. "Look, I'm going to be really busy pretty much from now until the end of the show, so what time and where should we meet for dinner?" He thought about it. "Well, I've not booked anywhere. I thought we could just drive around and look for somewhere that appealed. Should we go from the hotel? Give you the chance to get changed out of your work gear?" Claire seemed to appreciate this, and nodded. "Sure. I'll text you once I'm ready to go. I'll see you at the arena, be prepared for more Snapchatting."

Ambrose arrived at the venue after the show had started. He was the main event with Kevin Owens so there was no need for him to be there from the start. Claire popped in quickly and he did a short video for snapchat about breaking Kevin Owens' fingers off, and then she was gone for the rest of the night. He didn't mind not seeing her much, as he was trying to plan his strategy for the evening. He wanted to make sure she didn't feel he was only after one thing. _I don't even know what it is I'm after,_ he thought. _Maybe I'm not after anything. Just dinner._ All he knew was he was having dinner with a 'lady', as Eden had put it, and so he was going to try and be on her level.

Claire had text him when she was heading down to the lobby. He'd arranged a car through their travel manager and he had just picked up the keys as Claire walked into the lobby. He smiled when he saw her, without even realising. She was wearing black jeans with a black and white long flowing top, with a casual jacket over top. She had her hair down, with some pinned to the side. She looked great, and he was thankful that he'd gone to the effort of buying a button up shirt before he headed to the venue this evening.

"Hey, wow, look at you. A collared shirt? Are we going somewhere really flash?" she said as she approached him. "Don't sound so surprised, I have it in me when I need to," he replied as he led her towards the car. He opened the door for her, and she got in, looking at him wearily. He closed the door and told himself not to try too hard. _Just be normal. It's just dinner. You've done it before._ They drove around town, and Claire asked him what he felt like eating. "Part of me feels like a big greasy burger, but I can grab that anytime," he said. "What about you?" He saw her thinking. "I think I'd like a nice lamb shank or something," she said looking at him. They drove around and found a strip of restaurants which look like they'd offer a nice meal. Ambrose parked up, and he noted Claire moved quickly to open her own door. _Message received,_ he thought. _She's capable of opening her own door._

Ambrose ordered a bottle of wine and Claire baulked at how much it cost. "Don't worry about the price. That's not important," he said, trying to relax her. "It does matter," she said. "I intend on paying for half of this meal and that bottle of wine costs more than my entire main!" Ambrose wanted to tell her that he wanted to pay for dinner, but he decided he'd fight that battle later. "Okay, then the wine is on me, okay? Seeing as I chose it." Claire reluctantly agreed, although when it arrived, she did agree it was a good selection. He referred to the strategy he had planned throughout the day. He wanted to talk about her. He asked about her job title, and what it is that she liked the most about it. "There's two things I enjoy," she started. "First, I love that I get to see exactly what our fans are saying. They let you know immediately what they think. That type of feedback is invaluable. I really wish we had more time to connect one on one with fans online. We could have some amazing insights." Ambrose saw what she meant. Within seconds, pictures were shared and commented on, he knew that. So instant feedback was important. "But the main thing I enjoy is the storytelling. Especially when you get to work with the same people in all the shows in a week." Ambrose frowned. "What type of stories? How do you mean?" Claire smiled. "Words are important on social media, even though posts with images do the best in terms of engagement," she started. "A picture says a thousand words," he said, happy that he was able to sound intelligent on a topic he really knew nothing about. Claire smirked. "Ahh, but sometimes you need 1001," she said. He cocked his head. "For example, when Roman won the title after TLC, the image we put online was of him holding the title above his head, with tears in his eyes. He looked so happy. The WWE Universe knew what he had been through to get there, right? So they didn't really need any context. But if you didn't know anything about wrestling, you don't know what happened to him. The booing earlier in the year, the 5.15, the fans calling him SuperCena 2.0, the gauntlet the Authority had put him through. They wouldn't know any of that. They'd look at photo and think 'Oh yes, he looks pleased with that.' They wouldn't know if it was his first defence or fiftieth. So, with the addition of just one word, we were able to tell that story. The picture went up with just 'Finally' as the caption, and suddenly, instead of the picture just looking like a happy champion, it was a picture that capped off his journey, and those people with no idea of the context could look at it and say 'That's why he's so happy, because this is something he's been working really hard for, for a long time.' Pictures can say plenty, but if you're smart with words, you can really hit it out of the park." Ambrose felt his jaw open slightly. "Wow, I never thought about it like that." Claire smiled. "I reckon you've never really given it the time of day anyway," she said with a laugh. "I know it's not your thing, but it's a really valuable tool for connecting with your audience, and telling stories." He nodded. "It's not that I don't think it's valuable, just that I don't need it. I don't want to tell the world what I'm having for dinner, and I don't want the world to shout their all-caps insults at me." Claire laughed. "I get the all-caps insults all the time. STOP YELLING AT ME!" She took out her phone, pushed a few buttons and slid it across the table to him. "That's our main WWE Twitter account right now. That's what people are saying right now. I'll never get why people just reply with one word. Goals. Bae. Follow. Or my personal favourite, on Instagram. 'First like!' Congratulations, darling, do you want a freaking medal?! Why does being first matter?" Ambrose smiled at her frustration, and noted the mocking tone in her voice. He liked her like this, relaxed and casual, not business Claire.

Over dinner, they talked hockey, and high school sports. Ambrose told her he was never any good at anything else, so just stuck with wrestling. "That's all I went to school for, to wrestle and eat my lunch." She smiled. _This is good,_ he thought to himself. She didn't seem as uptight as she did in the elevator last night. _Maybe she's on her period._ He decided to stick to the plan. As the waiter cleared their dinner dishes and took their dessert orders, Ambrose leaned across the table slightly. "Look, I want to tell you something, before you hear it from anyone else," he started. _Okay, so maybe that wasn't true._ But she didn't need to know that he'd spoken to Eden this morning. "I've been on the road for a long time, when you include the indies. Since I was just a kid, really. So I grew up on the road and learned some lessons and made some mistakes. And had some unhealthy habits." He went on to tell her about his time in Puerto Rico and some harsh lessons he learned there. And to his surprise, she didn't judge him. "Everyone has a history, Jon, a past. So long as you've learned from it, and made changes, then I'm not judging." He looked at up her. She seemed so sincere. That was never an easy story to tell anyone, and he often didn't know how to raise it, but he just felt that she would take it well, even if it changed her opinion of him. Her response only endeared her to him more. "Totally. I learned fast. If I'd have carried on that way, I wouldn't be here. And I don't just mean in the WWE," he said pensively. Suddenly, she reached across and grabbed his hand. Her touch sent a buzz through his body. "You know," she started, "I had no idea about that. I might not agree with what you did, but I sure as hell respect how you turned your life around. Good on you, Jon. That couldn't have been easy." She squeezed his hand, and what felt all too soon, retracted back to her side of the table. But he could feel the spot where she squeezed him long after she removed her hand.

"So, one vice turned to another, and this one stuck around a bit longer," he said, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "Jon Moxley had quite the reputation as a ladies man. It kinda followed me around, and I can't deny that I made the most of that at every opportunity." Claire laughed. "I have heard about the Titty Master, actually. That sounds like quite the story…." Ambrose swallowed and told the story of how the name developed, and how it stuck. "Like I said, I was a young guy on the road with no responsibilities." Claire scoffed. "You're lucky you didn't end up with a whole bunch of little responsibilities!" He agreed. "None that I know of anyway." There was a slight pause, and he wanted to break it but wasn't sure how. He'd done enough talking. Claire spoke up. "So, why did you tell me this?" He felt his face twist as he thought about how to answer that one. "My colleagues like to remind me of my reputation at all available times. And sure, I might not have done anything to dispel any rumours, but I know how hard you're working around here. I know this is important to you, and I don't want you to suffer from any gossip that having dinner with me might generate. So I decided honesty was the best policy." Claire smirked. "You think people will think I've been a victim of the Titty Master?" He cringed; that's not what he wanted at all. "I hope not. I don't want your career to be ruined by stupid innuendo." He saw her face soften. "Anyone who makes judgements based on gossip isn't someone I want to know about. I must say that I've never felt like you have tried to make any sort of move. You've been welcoming and friendly and I appreciate that. And I'll have no qualms in telling anyone who asks that the Master isn't interested in me." She laughed, and he chuckled quietly, so not to make her uneasy. _The Master might not be,_ he thought, _but I'm not so sure about me._ "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. I'm thirty now so can't live that life forever." Claire let out a laugh. "So this is like a new beginning for you? You're going to be a different guy?" Ambrose didn't know how to read her tone. She seemed dubious. "Well, that's the plan. Surely one day someone is going to come along and change everything." Claire nodded. "I believe that," she said with conviction. "Someday, without even knowing it, your world gets turned upside down by the person who completes you. Sounds pretty wanky, I know, but I believe there's someone out there for us all, and when you bring those two people together, everything makes sense." He nodded, intensely, and couldn't help but notice his heart had picked up its pace. Just then, dessert arrived, and they ate with gentle conversation about the best flavour of ice cream.

When they returned to the hotel, they said goodnight in the elevator. Just as Claire was about to walk down the hallway, she re-appeared and re-entered the elevator. She stood right in front of him as she said "I'm really glad you decided to share all that with me Jon, it means a lot that you trust me with that." She leaned forward and hugged him gently. Ambrose froze, and took in the smell of her hair as she pressed herself into him. He raised his hand slowly and placed it gently on her back. "Thanks," he whispered, a bit more gentle than he intended. She backed away, smiled at him, and walked down the hallway. As the doors closed and the elevator jerked upwards, he let his head hit the wall. He sighed. _What the hell is going on?_


	9. Latin heat

The following day, after the planning meeting for RAW, Zane called Claire back. Claire felt her stomach drop. She maintained eye contact with Lucy for as long as possible, each asking the same question in silence. _What is this about?_ Zane asked Claire to sit beside him. Claire saw he had in front of him her reports from the house shows over the weekend. She gulped and felt her hands start to get clammy. "I've looked over the reports from the weekend and these are really good, Claire." _Pardon_ , she said internally. Zane continued, "I realise you were in the deep end on your own there and I kept an eye on the content. I think it's been some of the more consistent and cohesive work we've done in the past year. There was no drop in standard, which to be honest, I was expecting given the workload." He stopped talking and Claire felt like she was expected to reply. "Thanks, Zee. It was a heavy workload and required me to work on Saturday, but I really enjoyed the challenge and the pace." Zane nodded. "And these reports... Why did you choose to include the Snapchat repeat stats?" She swallowed. "I noted a trend emerging over the shows and thought it might be good to track that as we head into the PPV. You know that I think it's our least valuable channel but these numbers show me something different." Zane nodded and clasped his fingers in front of his face. "Mmmmm. I see that. And you threw in the stats for the opposite rotation too." His voice was flat. _Is he still praising me?_ she wondered. "Yes. I wanted to check if they were seeing the same thing." "And what did you discover?" he queried. "That there was less data to work with, but a few of the same points were there," she said confidently. Zane's eyes narrowed. "Why is there less data?" Claire thought about this, and her real answer incriminated her friends. "That suggests the team spent more time on other channels, rather than Snapchat. Perhaps because of our trepidation about it as a platform." Zane looked at her. "Your way with words doesn't blanket the facts, Claire. They didn't work hard enough. There were two of them and one of you, and you shat all over them in terms of productivity and quality. Do you believe that workload is sustainable?" She had to think quickly. "At the shows, yes. But the paperwork would catch up eventually I think. Particularly if someone threw a spanner in the works." Hopefully that showed that she was capable but would not incriminate Lucy and Carl. _What the hell had they been doing all weekend?_ "Speaking of spanners, I was personally sought out by Hunter last week to be told how impressed he and Steph were with your ability to change on a dime. They were pleased with what you produced. You should be proud." Claire bowed her head softly, she'd never been good with compliments. "Yes, I am proud of what we put together in a short space of time." "Well, I'm proud of you. And particularly pleased you felt confident enough to proceed without seeking me out. That's good Claire. You're making good moves around here." She nodded and thanked him. Zane discussed a few options with her about how best to utilize the discoveries Claire had made through the data and then she left to arrange her pre-shoots.

She bumped into Eden and Cody on her way to find Sheamus. "Do you and your friends want to join us in town after the show?" Eden asked. "It's nothing big, just a drink or two." Claire smiled. "Absolutely. I don't know their plans, but I'm sure they'd love to join in. Thanks. Text you later?" Eden nodded and Claire went on her way. With her focus being on the Authority and their evil plans for Roman, she didn't see Ambrose, but assumed he'd be part of the group heading out tonight. She couldn't wait to tell Lucy she'd been invited to sit at the cool kids table. Lucy almost squeaked in delight. "But you both have to be on your best behaviour, okay? Don't shit the bed before its even been made," Claire said in warning.

Following the show, Claire, Lucy and Carl met Cody, Eden, Roman and Dolph in the lobby. "Is this everyone?" Carl asked. The roster scoffed, and Claire found herself smirking too. "Give it another hour and Ambrose will be here." It only took five minutes for a casual looking Ambrose to join them. "Right on time, late as usual," Cody said as they moved towards the door.

The group found a table at a club close to the hotel and Roman shouted the first round. Lucy was excited. "The champion is buying me a drink!" she whispered to Claire, obvious excitement in her voice. "Yes. He is. Better make sure you buy the next one," Claire joked. Eden looked over the room to where some of the younger guys on the roster had found their ladies for the night. They were dancing with girls who were leaving little to the imagination, both in their outfits and their dance moves. Eden sighed. "No self respect," she said with a slight shake of the head. "Do you mean the girls or the guys?" Cody asked, watching as Neville unbuttoned his shirt and let the woman in front of him slide her hands up his chest. "We've all been there, haven't we Mox?" Dolph quipped, nudging Ambrose. All eyes turned to Ambrose as the group laughed. Claire couldn't help a small smirk forming on her face, but tried her best to hide it when she saw how uncomfortable he looked with the implication. He looked directly at her, and saw a mischievous spark replace the unease in his eye. _This isn't going to end well_ , she thought. _He doesn't like being embarrassed and his wit is too sharp to take that lying down..._ "Well, maybe Claire could show them some proper dance moves." Her eyes widened. _Oh no he didn't..._ The group looked at her, while she looked at him with steel in her eyes. "Did you know she ballroom danced?" he said with a wicked grin. The males in the group let out a chuckle, whereas Eden squealed in surprise! "No! Oh my god, you can dance? Oh show us some, please?" Claire shook her head. "No no no, that's a past life now. My days in stilettos are done, sorry." She excused herself to the bathroom. _Jesus Ambrose, you're on thin ice pal._

When she returned, Lucy, ever the opportunist, had a man beside her. _Hope she goes to his room, and not him back to ours_ , she thought. "Oh Claire, excellent. This is Luis. He would love to dance with you." _What?_ She noticed Eden watching something on her phone. "Oh please honey, you look so beautiful!" Claire peered at the screen and recognized the lime green dress she had worn at the state champs when she was 17. She closed her eyes in disbelief. When she opened them, Ambrose was giggling, and shrugged his shoulders at her. _I'll show you_ , she thought. She turned sharply on her heel, took this guy Luis' hand and marched to the dance floor. "Can you rhumba?" she asked him as they walked away. "Baby, I'm from Brazil. I was born to rhumba."

The group cheered as Claire was spun by the stranger, and he dipped her in the middle of the dance floor. Ambrose took a sip of his beer. He was proud of himself for not only deflecting the ridicule off himself, but that he'd get to see Claire dance. It couldn't have gone any better. Eden was hooting and hollering, Claire's friend _(Lilly?)_ smiling broadly. As always, he was a crowd pleaser. Suddenly Dolph interrupted his thoughts. "Shit, she can move." Ambrose turned to the dance floor to see Claire pressed tightly against this guy she didn't know three minutes ago. His hands were roaming along her legs as she slowly lowered herself to the ground. The man lifted her to her feet, holding her arms above her head. They were face to face as they moved in time with each other, stepping back and forward. The man ran his fingers down Claire's arms, down her sides and rested on her hips. Ambrose froze. Claire rolled her body against the guy, and Ambrose felt a burning heat rising from the pit of his stomach. _What is this, f-king clothed foreplay_? He couldn't believe Claire was moving so... provocatively. It made him uncomfortable. It made him angry. He watched as he spun her and she circled her hips slowly. They ended with another dip, his lips only inches from hers. As the girls at the table clapped and cheered, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

Claire and her dance partner kissed each other on the cheek, twice, then she made her way back to the table. "Oh my god that was amazing!" Lucy said, putting an arm around her. Eden had her mouth open wide in mock disbelief. "Girl I would never have guessed you were a dancer. That's incredible. Can you teach me that?" Dolph nudged Cody with a wink and Claire found herself looking at Ambrose out of the corner of her eye. He was looking down at the beer glass in front of him. _Hopefully that'll show him not to call me out again_ , she thought.

Claire found her way to the bar to grab a drink. There was a crowd, and while she was waiting to be served, Luis approached her. "Hey baby, you move pretty well for a Yankee girl." Claire smiled gently. "Thanks. It's been a while though so I'm a bit rusty. Thanks for leading me!" Luis winked. "An honor to lead such a beautiful lady." Thinking the conversation was over, Claire turned back towards the bar. The line was still three people deep; it would be a while before she was served. "I have not seen you before," Luis said. "Are you from out of town?" Claire nodded. "Just here for the night, with work." Luis had a glint in his eye, which made Claire shuffle away from him. "So do you have a place to spend the night? Because there is room for two at my place..." Claire shook her head. "Oh no, thank you. I have accommodation all sorted." Luis inched closer. "So is there a man then?" Again, she shook her head. "No. No man." He came closer to her ear. "Oh I see. So then there is room for me there too." Claire sighed. She really should take it as a compliment. It had been a while since someone hit on her, especially so relentlessly. But Luis did not do it for her, and she was starting to feel embarrassed enough of their little dirty dancing scene without adding to the tale by taking him back to the hotel. Claire was now at the front of the bar. Luis stood close behind her, his arms either side of her, effectively pinning her to the bar. "Come on, a lady doesn't dance like that with a man and not want him to please her for the entire night." She screwed her face up. _Vomit..did he really just say that?_ She ordered her drink with the barman. She felt him lean closer in behind her and begin to whisper his offer again. His finger ran up the side of her neck slowly. Suddenly, she felt the pressure of him against her release from behind her. "No means no, asshole." She turned to see Luis on his backside, appearing to have been pulled to the floor, with Ambrose standing between him and her. "You alright?" he said, looking at her intensely. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. I had it under control." She took her drink from the barman and walked back to the group, with a pointed look in Ambrose's direction as she passed him.

Ambrose took off after Claire. "I don't even get a thank you?" Claire didn't even look at him. "A thank you for what? For making me look like a damsel in distress who can't fight her own battle?" Ambrose couldn't believe she didn't appreciate his help. "I saw you shake your head at him Claire, more than once. You didn't look comfortable. And then he had the balls to press himself against you and touch you? The guy's a complete creep." Claire huffed. "Maybe so. But what if I was enjoying the attention?" He stopped in his tracks. That hadn't even crossed his mind. _What if she was?_ He watched as Claire slammed her glass down on the table. "Here Luce, I got you a drink." She picked up her bag and took off out to the street. Baffled, Eden called after her, defeatedly. The group looked amongst themselves confused, then slowly turned to Ambrose. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

About an hour later, Claire heard Lucy's key in the hotel door. "Is it safe to come in?" she asked. Claire couldn't help but smile. "Yes. I'm not a danger to anyone anymore." Lucy laughed. "What happened back there? You really killed the buzz." Claire wasn't sure herself. She knew she was right to be a fraction frustrated that Ambrose felt she needed protection. But it was a massive overreaction, she knew that too. She couldn't think of a reason why. He'd only been looking out for her, shouldn't she be thankful for that? "I dunno. I've had a really busy weekend so my head is a bit overloaded at the moment." Lucy sat on the edge of her bed. "Does it have anything to do with your chat with Zee?" she asked. Claire paused. She didn't want to tell Lucy what she and Zane had discussed just yet. She wasn't sure how Lucy would take it. "No. There's just been weird stuff going on in my brain and I think I just imploded. I'm sorry, Luce." Claire couldn't help but ask. "What happened after I left?" Lucy re-positioned herself on the bed. "Well, we all scratched our heads for a few minutes, and then we had another round and pretty much came back," Lucy replied. "Except Ambrose. He left almost straight after you. I thought maybe he'd come after you?" Claire had an inquisitive look on her face. "He left? Well, he didn't come after me. I've not seen him since. It's just been me, Ben and Bruce," she said, motioning at the television. "He's a bit hard to read, that Ambrose, isn't he? A little bit schizo," Lucy added, before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. "Mmmm," was all Claire managed to get out. He was hard to read, even though they'd spent more time together recently. She'd found herself wondering what he'd be like as a boyfriend a few times. _He'd never have me anyway_ , she thought. Especially after tonight.

The girls watched as Bruce Willis saved the world so Ben Affleck could marry his daughter, and got ready to turn the light out. Claire's phoned buzzed.  
 _Hey. You up?_  
It was Ambrose. She didn't know what to do. Her anger towards him had been replaced by regret for losing her rag. Maybe she should sleep on it and apologise in the morning. But she wanted to know what he was after.  
 _\- I'm awake. But not up._  
 _Can you be? I've got something I wanna say to you._  
Claire looked at the clock. It was almost 1am.  
 _\- It can't be said by text?_  
 _No. But if you don't wanna see me, I get it._  
 _\- I didn't say that. Okay. I'm up._  
 _Great. On the roof in five._  
Claire frowned.  
 _\- The roof?_


	10. Rooftop revelations

After Claire told a white lie to Lucy about calling her brother to escape questioning, she took the elevator to the 22nd floor, as high as it would go. It looked just like her floor, full of doors. Certainly not a roof. She wandered down the hallway until she found the staircase, and cautiously walked up. There was a door slightly ajar and she squeezed through as silently as possible. She couldn't deny she was a little spooked, until she saw Ambrose standing away to the right, mumbling to himself. "Hey," she said, casual, as if she hadn't been pissed at him a matter of hours ago. He turned at hearing her voice. "Hey," he said, taking her in. She was wearing her Goofy pajama pants and her Penguins hoodie. "Didn't feel the need to get dressed?" he questioned. Claire remained stoic. "Well I'm not experienced with the required dress code for a midnight rooftop rendezvous so I dressed for comfort." Ambrose took a step closer to her. "Have you been crying?" he asked. Claire blinked. "We've just watched Armageddon, and if you don't cry when Bruce Willis says he's going to die saving to world so Ben Affleck can marry his daughter, then you have no heart." They both smiled, with Ambrose letting out a gentle scoff. Claire knew it wouldn't be his type of thing.

"Look," he started. "I wanted to apologise. I overreacted in the club and I was out of line. I'm sorry." He was looking at the ground, and Claire could tell this made him uneasy. "Well, if it helps, I was going to say the same to you." His eyes lifted to her with surprise. "You were just trying to look out for me and I shouldn't have overreacted like that. I'd have been wonderfully grateful had it actually been worse than it was, so I shouldn't be so quick to dismiss your efforts." A period of silence followed, before Ambrose asked "Why were you so angry about it? I've never heard that tone in your voice before." Claire shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I've spent the last few hours asking the same thing. Maybe because you brought up the dancing thing, you baited me, and then seemed so furious that the guy I'd danced with was interested. That was a product of what you'd asked for. Cos I knew what you were doing, diverting the attention away from yourself. That's why you told them I could dance." Ambrose nodded slowly, but added "Well you didn't have to dance like that." Claire raised her eyebrows. "Like what?" Ambrose threw his arms out. "All... sexy. Letting him touch you and grind into you. No wonder the poor guy tried his luck." Claire tried to remain calm; as a grown woman she had full freedom in her choices, thank you very much. "So tell me," she said with a pointed tone in her voice, "what does it matter to you how I dance with strange men I've met in clubs, huh?" She saw him pause, and his arms dropped to his sides defeatedly. He sighed heavily, and she watched his face soften, avoiding eye contact with her. Claire was trying to read his expression, before he began to speak. "I don't know. But it does, evidently." Claire watched him. He looked so uncomfortable she wouldn't have put it past him to leave. He was pacing and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, here's the thing. You and I, I don't know what is going on. Two months ago, if you'd asked me, I wouldn't have changed a thing. I was happy. But now, when I spend time with you, I'm happier than that benchmark. I can't put a finger on it, but the word that comes to mind is... addictive. Spending time with you is addictive." Claire looked at him, eyes wide, then quickly at her feet. _What is happening...?_ Her mind was blank. She wasn't used to having nothing to say but she couldn't find any words. This wasn't what she thought it was, surely. It couldn't be. Ambrose continued. "And I have racked my brain about this for the last week. Trying to work out why there's been a smile on my face more than usual. How you make me want to tell you everything. Why I want to be where you are. And I've not been able to find a proper answer. And then I saw you with that guy and I got angry. I got angry because…" He trailed off. He took a heavy breath and continued. "Because I was jealous." With that, he looked up at Claire. Their eyes met and Claire felt her pulse quicken. Her palms got sweaty. Her mind was racing a million miles an hour. _This can't be happening_ , she thought. _He can't be interested in me. He has a type, and I'm not it._ As she was trying to process what had happened, Ambrose closed his eyes in frustration. "For Christ's sake Claire, say something. Please!" Her eyes darted away from his face, and then back to it. And without even thinking, she blurted out the thing which had been gnawing away at her all day. "Zane's changing me to the other rotation."

Ambrose heard the words but didn't immediately register what they meant. "What?" he asked. Claire repeated herself. "He's changing the staffing schedule for the rotations. I won't be in Worchester this weekend. I'll be in Albany." This time, the message got through. _I'm not going to see her this weekend._ He felt his breathing get a little quicker. "Permanently?" he asked. She hardly moved. "Indefinitely, that was his word." _That punk._ "Why?" Claire looked at him quickly, and he thought he saw a brief flash of sadness in her eyes. "He was impressed at the work I did over the weekend by myself. He said I totally outperformed Lucy and Carl on the other rotation and he wants to reward my work by putting me on the champion rotation." _But I'm a champion…,_ he thought angrily. He didn't like what he was hearing. Not at all. When he invited her up here to chat, to say what he's been thinking, he knew he wouldn't be able to find the words to express his messed up thoughts, and knew there was the potential it wouldn't go well. But he hadn't predicted this. This was definitely not going well. "So did you say no?" Claire was looking out to the city, biting her lip. There was a moment or two of silence, before she turned to look at him. He felt her eyes piercing through his with genuine intention. "Do I have a reason to say no?" He found his mouth dry all of a sudden. His heart pumped a little bit faster. He'd revealed he had feelings for her, in his own messed up way. Now he had to do it again, in a way to convince her to stay with him. "That depends. On what you think of what I just said."

Claire sat down on a concrete slab and rubbed her temples. Ambrose didn't know what to think. She certainly didn't look like someone who was over moon to hear a man was interested in her. "Look," she began, "when I came here, I didn't intend on being with anyone in the company. Not that I flattered myself to think anyone would be interested, but I didn't come here to sleep my way around. I came here because this was the break I had been waiting for. I hauled ass at HQ and I didn't want any of the work I did here to be undermined by sleeping with someone. I didn't think it would look good to my bosses if I started seeing someone I worked with." Ambrose sighed gently. He couldn't fault her dedication to her job, and how determined she was to succeed. But she obviously didn't get it. "Don't you see how incestuous this place is? Working for this company you can't have a normal life. If you're trying to meet someone, you don't meet them outside the WWE. Or if you do, you can't maintain that, seeing them two days a week. Don't worry yourself about that. Even the boss' daughter couldn't stop it." He hoped mentioning Stephanie would work. He knew how much Claire respected her. She put her chin on her hand and exhaled loudly. _Say something, Claire¸_ he willed. _Say something about me._ "And now you've just dropped that bomb and I have to reassess that policy," she said, looking up at him. She looked so confused. _I feel ya, girl._ He hadn't thought she would be so blindsided by his revelation; he was sure she would've noticed how different he was around her, and the electricity that seemed to bounce between them at times. But he was beginning to realise she hadn't even entertained it, due to a relationship not being on her radar. "So," he said tentatively, sitting down beside her. "Does that mean you're interested?" After a short paused, she scoffed slightly. "Well, I don't make a habit of meeting men on hotel rooftops at 1am, you know. So there must be a reason I want to be here with you." A wry smile appeared on her face as she turned towards him. He felt a weight lift from his lungs, and returned her grin.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, looking out at the city lights. "Tell me something," Claire said. He turned to look at her. "What is it you're after?" _You._ That was the first thing that popped into his head. But now it was time for more emotional outpouring, which he was neither well-versed in or comfortable with. "I'm no good with words, Claire. Not like this. Stick me in front of 25,000 people every night with a microphone and I'm fine. But one on one, like this, talking about emotions and shit. I don't have it." She nodded knowingly. She understood him. "That said," he started, "this is what I've been thinking about for the past couple of weeks. What's different." There was a pause. "I can only think of a really male way to say this…. You have every reason to be weary of my past. I made the bed for that one. I can't run from it. But what I said the other night, about turning over a new leaf and all that shit, I meant it. I'd been thinking about it even before you came along, because turning 30 with no substantial relationship to my name made me question my priorities and what I wanted in the future. I've always thought that the whole wife and kids and dog and house thing would just happen without really noticing. But I realised that with the lifestyle I had, it wasn't likely. So, what I'm after?" He screwed his nose up as he tried to think of a better way to phrase it, but he drew blank. _Watch out, here comes the crass._ "In the past, girls have only been about one thing. But then I met you, and it's different. It's not just about pleasing my cock, you make the rest of me feel good." He watched, expecting Claire to be disturbed by the way that came out. But she didn't seem to be. In fact, she looked like she was blushing. "Really?" she asked him. He pleaded that his face would show her how genuine he was. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But it's true." She nodded slowly, then turned back to look towards the city. "Actually, I have no reason to distrust you. Yes, you have a history, but you've never done anything to me to make me think you can't be trusted," she said. Ambrose agreed. Ever since he'd realised Claire was different he had tried to be on his best behaviour. And intended to stay that way. Because she deserved someone who respected her, treated her well. No matter what this was, he knew he'd do his best to treat her well. _If she lets me_. And that was the big question.

After a period of silence, Ambrose couldn't take it any longer. He reached his arm out, palm upturned, a silent request for Claire's hand. She looked at his face first, and he smiled softly. He watched as she shook the long sleeve of her hoodie down to reveal her hand, and he felt the warmth of her fingers shoot through him as she laced them through his. Her skin felt so warm and soft against his cold, callused hands. _This is why it's different,_ he wanted to tell her. _I could never find the words, but I wish I could tell her how good this feels._ He laughed at himself. He'd not been this excited about holding a girl's hand since he was 11. Claire just made the simple things feel good. He had an idea. "Look, I know you have some things to consider. I'm not going to pressure you into anything. But I'll make you a promise." He looked her right in the eye. "I promise you I'll show you I mean it. That it's different. That you're different." Claire smiled and it took everything he had to not lean forward and kiss her. _Good things come to those who wait,_ he thought. _And those who earn it._


	11. Day Zero

Claire didn't see Ambrose until she arrived at the Smackdown venue later in the day. He'd needed to be up early for some media and then a meet and greet, and had left on an early bus. Claire had spent her morning running with Lucy, before the onsite comms team had their meeting while on their bus. As always, they started by reviewing engagement stats for RAW. Claire was glad to see one of her Authority posts had topped the list. Most of it was probably vitriol for their treatment of Reigns, but like they say, any engagement is good engagement. She did, however, hope Zane didn't make a big deal of it. Their conversation yesterday replayed in her mind. She knew he was going to announce the rotation changes here. She just didn't know who would be on the receiving end. In the end, he didn't even allow for it to be a topic of conversation. "And until further notice, Claire is joining Lucy on A rotation. Carl, you'll be taking B with me." Then he sat in his seat, plugged his earphones in and was oblivious to the looks being exchanged by his staff. Claire tried her best to remain neutral but could feel her cheeks burning. Carl leaned forward from the seat behind where she and Lucy were seated. "What's going on? Why do I feel like I've been sent to the principal's office?" The girls both shrugged, and Claire hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt.

At the venue, she immediately sought out Ambrose. He looked surprised to see her. Claire said "You're stuck with me tonight, buddy." Ambrose smirked. "What an honor, to be dealing with teacher's pet of the comms team." Claire let her mouth fall into a slight pout. "Don't," she said in a whiny tone. "You know I'm sensitive about that. Plus I just had to pretend I knew nothing about the rotation change while Carl struggled to understand." Ambrose threw his match gear down on the bench. "Why do you feel bad for him? You're better than him." Claire looked at him. "Not everything is a competition, Jon. There's room for empathy here. Especially as we're friends. The poor guy had no warning." Ambrose took his hoodie off and threw it in his bag. "Well, that's not your problem. Where's the hard-nosed Claire from last night, talking about how important her career is? How important it is to prove herself through her work?" While he was talking, he removed his shirt. Claire couldn't help but let her eyes roam. Of course she'd seen him topless before, but this felt different. More private. She watched as he pulled a black singlet down over his chest, muscles flexing in his arms as he did so. She bit the inside of her cheek gently before answering his question. "She's still there. And I know it's good for my career. But why does it have to be so dog-eat-dog, you know?" Ambrose raised his eyebrows quickly. "Survival of the fittest. It's everywhere. It's all I know. Hell, I'm on the receiving end right now. I was the leader of the Shield and now Colby and Joe have held the title before me. But I can't be mad at them. They didn't make the decision. I just need to work harder. So Carl better not have a go at you. Zane's the one he needs to talk with." Claire thought about that. It was a fair point. And Zane hadn't given her a choice, he just told her he was changing her rotation. Still, she couldn't help but feel bad for Carl.

"So what type of magic are we gonna make tonight?" Ambrose asked. Claire looked at her notes. Dean Ambrose was being called out by Kevin Owens, then doing commentary for his match. "We're looking for you walking backstage, on your way to the ring, looking totally thrilled Owens has called you out. In a nutcase kinda way, happy to be heading out to a verbal contest. You know the kind - the same way Dean Ambrose looks excited when he's heading into a certain fight." She looked up at him, and he was unbuttoning his pants. She swallowed. "Oh yeah," he said. "I know the type. Punch drunk." He turned to face the wall, removing his pants. Claire didn't know where to look. She tried to look away but his voice drew her eyes back to him. "Who else you got tonight?" Claire couldn't help it, her eyes fell to his backside, covered by his dark boxers. _That is a nice butt,_ she thought to herself. "Ah. Paige, New Day and, ummm, ah, Bo." Upon hearing the uncertainty in her voice, he turned back to face her, still pulling the jeans up over his thighs. "You okay there?" he said with a grin. Claire pressed her lips together firmly and nodded. _Maintain eye contact, maintain eye contact_. She saw, out of the bottom of her vision, Ambrose jostle with his button and zipper, and only dared take her eyes off his face when she was sure he was done. "You got time to swing by catering?" he asked. _Hell yes_ , Claire thought. She was starving.

Over dinner, Claire noticed a few stares in their direction. They were sitting next to Barrett and Kofi, so it wasn't immediately obvious something was going on. But they arrived and left together, and Claire knew that tongues would be wagging. Eden had said as much; news travels fast around here. They made their way to a corridor to set up for the pre-shoot. "So, I'll just walk and you snap away?" Ambrose asked. Claire nodded. He turned to walk up the corridor, but Claire stopped him. "What are you going to do when people start talking?" Ambrose turned back and took a step towards her. "Not care." Claire could see the conviction in his eyes, but Eden's words still swam through her head. She did two walk-throughs with Ambrose before she had to move on. "You wanna grab a cab to the airport?" he asked as she left him at his locker room. He had a smile on his face so soft she was certain Dean Ambrose would be ashamed of it. "Sure thing. Meet you here." He nodded and slipped into his room. Claire went to find Paige, squeezing her eyes closed tightly to try and refocus her brain. _Remember why you're here._

Ambrose was waiting for her when after the show. "You mean I'm running late for once?" Claire joked. He was in his 'Jon' attire, with a knitted hat pulled low. Some of that fluffy hair was poking out haphazardly, and when he laughed at Claire's lame quip, it reached his eyes. She'd noticed all these things before, of course, but since last night they seemed to be much more noticeable. As they hopped into the cab, with Ambrose loading Claire's bags into the trunk, she couldn't help but think two days at home would be a great idea. What a crazy few days it had been. As little as four days ago, she'd not even entertained the thought of dating anyone, let alone Ambrose. Within the last 100 hours, he'd told her his secrets, she'd attempted to (and succeeded at) making him jealous, she'd lost her cool at him, he'd struggled to explain his feelings and she'd struggled to believe it. And she'd received incredible praise from her boss, and the big bosses, and now she was working the A rotation. No wonder she felt exhausted. Ambrose picked up on it. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look wasted." Claire nodded slowly. "Someone's kept me up past my bedtime too many times this past week." He smirked. "God, what an asshole. You gotta stop hanging out with people like that." They made small talk about their plans for the break, and all too soon, were at the airport. Ambrose took their bags out of the trunk and they made their way towards check-in. His flight was leaving half an hour before hers, but she would be home before him, given he was heading to Vegas. They proceeded through security together. "Guess I'll see you on Monday then," he said with a sad smile. Claire felt a twinge in her chest, but tried to remain neutral. "Yeah," she nodded. "Have a safe flight." He nodded and turned towards his gate. Claire found a seat at her gate, and watched a few planes taxi to the runway, knowing one of them would be his. She picked one aimlessly, deciding that was heading to Vegas, and watched it take off into the dark. She sighed. It was only now he was gone that she realised she wished he was beside her. She let her head fall in her hands and rubbed her temples. _Well. Isn't this just a bitch of a predicament._


	12. Downtime

Claire decided she would spend all of Wednesday in bed. She'd not got home until the early hours of the morning, and nothing sounded better than spending the day in bed, dozing, reading and trying not to think about anything. She had succeeded until there was a knock on her door. It was Mrs Allen, her landlady. Claire rented out a small but tidy studio above Mrs Allen's detached garage. Mr Allen had passed away four months prior to her moving in and Mrs Allen had been looking for a little bit of extra money as well as a bit of company. Claire warmed to her immediately; partly through compassion for her loss, but also as a lovely woman in her early 70s who was determined to continue to enjoy her life. "Claire, honey, are you in?" Mrs Allen called. Claire pulled a sweatshirt on over her pajamas and answered the door. "Oh, did I wake you? I know you came in late but I thought I'd left it long enough. I'm sorry dear." Claire chuckled. "Don't worry, I was awake, but I had a really busy week so I figured a day of books in bed would be good for the soul." Mrs Allen settled herself on the sofa, she knew she was welcome. She put Claire's mail on the table alongside some fresh jam. "Everything okay with work? Why so busy?" Claire hadn't wanted to think about this today, but she couldn't hide from Mrs Allen, her mom away from home. "Yeah, everything is actually going so well I got a promotion, sort of. But I can't help but think it will rock the boat," she said, making a pot of tea. Mrs Allen looked pleased. "It's hard," Claire continued, "of course I want to do as well as I can with the company, but I don't want to burn bridges along the way." Mrs Allen took a sip of her tea. "I don't know the circumstances, darling, but I'd say you have to do what's best for you. You have worked too hard to let petty politics get in the way of what you want. You're the most driven young lady I've known." Claire smiled. She knew Mrs Allen was right. She had to keep her eyes on the prize. "You worry about what's best for you, Claire, because that's what everyone else will be doing – only looking out for number one. Make the most of everything you have and don't turn down anything that will make you happy – you don't want to regret anything." Those last few words resonated most with Claire, but not for the situation they had been talking about.

Ambrose had slept in before hitting the gym. His aim had been to keep busy to distract himself from his thoughts. Having Claire in on his mind had been almost constant for the past couple of weeks, but now his brain was over analysing every interaction they'd had since the rooftop. She still hadn't said exactly how she felt, and he was acutely aware of that. But it must be on her mind to be asking him what he thought about any potential gossiping. And the way she'd been at the airport, quiet and subdued, was not like her at all. He had really wanted to hug her goodbye, to feel her arms around him again, but he had held back. He had decided that until Claire was certain, he didn't want any public affection; he knew what the Internet was capable of. He wanted to protect her from that. Besides, he doubted his ability to let go of her.

He picked up his phone, with every intention of texting her. He even got as far as composing the message before he thought again. He said he wasn't going to pressure her, so letting her have some space on her days off was probably a good thing. He cancelled the message and let his head fall back on to the sofa. This was new territory for him. It made him uneasy. Like an itch he couldn't reach. He didn't even have a picture of her to calm his thoughts. Suddenly, he remembered something from Monday night. He opened YouTube on his phone and typed in Claire's name, followed by 'dancing'. At least a dozen videos popped up of a Jack Orr and Claire Harris in Pennsylvania state champs throughout the early 2000s. His fingers hovered over the selections, and clicked on a jive from 2004. Whatever that was.

A cheesy 50s sounding song began to play. The crowd's applause died away, and a young looking Claire took a position towards the back of the dance floor. She was wearing a bright pink, sparkly dress, cut off midway down her thighs. Her hair was pulled tightly back and she had loads of make up on. Ambrose narrowed his eyes. She looked so different to the Claire he knew. Like she said, it was almost a different lifetime. A man, Jack, he presumed, slid in behind her to the music and they began to move. Fast. Claire's legs were kicking and pumping to every beat. Jack picked her up, swing her between his legs and along the floor, before Claire bounced up and continued to kick and bop her way around the floor. Ambrose wasn't paying attention to what Jack was doing, until he spun her into him, and then away, taking Claire's dress with him. Initially Ambrose thought this was a mistake, a wardrobe malfunction of epic proportions. But the way Claire continued on, in a bright pink bra and panties, effectively, made it obvious it was part of the show. They were moving so fast Ambrose felt like he couldn't get a good look at her. But when the routine came to a stop, which Jack holding Claire just inches from the ground, he was able to take her in. Even though this was more than a decade ago, he hadn't seen Claire with such little clothing on. As they stood to receive their applause, he paused the video. He looked at her legs, which hadn't changed, except maybe no longer subject to fake tan. His eyes passed up to her stomach, noting Jack's hand on her hip. Her stomach was flat, but her chest was not. _Stop it, she's probably underage here_ , he chastised himself. He had to admit though, despite her body looking great in that outfit, he definitely preferred her now, with less make up, natural skin and casual hair. He decided that she'd put on a bit of weight since she finished dancing. _Let's call it shape_ , he decided. Her hips were definitely rounder now than they were in this video.

He clicked on another video, this one titled a Viennese waltz. As far as he knew, Claire had never been to Vienna. This time a spotlight opened on Jack, dressed in a penguin suit. He flicked his arms around a bit before moving left, where another spotlight lit up Claire. Ambrose paused the video right away. This time, she had her hair down, and it was curly, and she was wearing a fancy purple dress with silver lace. It was long and covered all of her body. You couldn't even see her feet. She looked so different. So... Elegant. Jack moved towards her, took her into his arms and they seemed to glide across the floor. This was the more formal, stuffy type of dance Ambrose had been expecting. It wasn't his thing, but he had to admit Claire looked stunning. He wondered if she ever wore dresses like that now.

He watched a few more; a cha cha, a salsa, a foxtrot and finished with a rhumba. He smirked at Jack's stupid tight pants. He was shirtless for this one. The music hit and Claire spun out from behind him. Ambrose's eyes widened. It looked like she was wearing nothing at all. Further inspection revealed it was a skin coloured mesh number, covering what it needed to, with a sparkly design over her stomach and chest. This was a sexy dance, like the one Claire had done in the bar with that jerk. Jack was rubbing his hands along Claire's legs, she was pulling his face closer to hers. Jack lowered his face on to Claire's chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist and bent backwards towards the ground. Ambrose was impressed at her flexibility. He was also impressed at their storytelling. They looked like a couple who couldn't keep their hands of each other, full of passion and desire. _At least I hope it's storytelling._

An hour or so later, he couldn't get the images of Claire in those outfits out of his mind. He wondered what she was doing now, and if she swam on her days off. His mind immediately went to her in her swimsuit, which morphed into her in her workout gear, and her ass in her jeans. He found himself recalling the time he caught a glimpse of her lacy yellow bra when she had innocently leaned over in front of him once. His pent up frustration was getting too much for him. He'd not slept with anyone in almost three months, which he was beginning to feel the effects of. Especially with how close he'd been getting to Claire, and the outfits he'd seen her in today. He took himself off to the bedroom, and found himself imagining Claire's mouth where his hand was. _I bet it feels ten times better than this._

Later, as he was eating dinner, his phone beeped. He felt a buzz of excitement when he saw who it was from.  
 _Hope you've had a good day. I realise I've not told you how I feel. I don't wanna do this by text but I know it's not fair to leave you hanging. So, while there's a lot of stuff flying around in my head right now, I'd be lying if I said I've not been able to stop thinking about you today. I'm off to sleep now, look forward to seeing you Monday._ _Sleep well, Jon._  
Claire had ended her text message with a smiley face. Ambrose didn't know if he should respond or not. He could sense she didn't want to launch into a text conversation, but he thought it he'd sent a text like that not receiving a reply would eat away at him. He decided on something he'd never done before. He returned her smiley face. He used to think smiley faces in text messages were so lame. But honestly, it was the best response, given he was smiling like crazy.

He picked up his phone and made a call, but not to Claire. 


	13. Girl Talk

Claire met Lucy at the airport as they'd arranged the previous night. They took a cab to their hotel, chatting about the impending bad weather. The championship rotation had a Friday and a Sunday show, and they'd been told they would be busing from one town to another given the storm that was setting in. Lucy was disappointed that the travel arrangements would eat into her Saturday off. "I'd hoped we could've done some shopping," she whinged to Claire. Claire smiled. Lucy loved shopping. She often wondered how she managed to stay under the luggage weight restrictions.

They checked into the hotel at the front desk and made their way to their room on the fourth floor. Lucy opened the door and walked in, while Claire made quick use of the bathroom. "Ha, they've labelled the beds!" she heard Lucy laugh. "Oh, no. Just one. Your bed has your name on it." Claire screwed her face up in confusion. She washed her hands and went into the room. "What are you going on about?" Lucy held in her hands an envelope with "Miss Harris" written on it. "What is that?" Claire asked, as she moved closer and took it from Lucy's hands. She pulled it out of the envelope and opened the paper folded inside. It was typed in a fancy cursive font:  
 _Dear Miss Harris, please make yourself comfortable and make your way to our day spa at 1pm. A one hour full body relaxation massage awaits you, courtesy of Mr Good.  
_ A wave of warmth passed through her, and Claire let out a soft breath. She was trying to process things when Lucy ripped the letter out of her hand. "Hey!" Claire yelled and tried to grab it back, but Lucy was reading it already. After a moment, she said "Mr Good? As in Jon Good?" Claire nodded, snatching the letter back from her. "As in Dean Ambrose Jon Good?" Claire nodded again. "As in the Titty Master?" Lucy asked once more, her pitch getting higher and disbelief stronger. "Yes!" Claire yelled. "I think we've established who it's from." Lucy turned her head to look at Claire sideways. "You gotta tell me this one." Claire sighed. _Where do I start?_

Claire told Lucy the story, only after she'd sworn her to secrecy. She started with the first pre-shoot they'd done in the carpark, and how there was no indication then that Ambrose would ask her to go bowling that night. Lucy already knew about the bowling session and the table hockey victory, but Claire hadn't told her about the bet and resulting Italian dinner. She told Lucy they'd gone out for dinner and it all seemed pretty normal for two people who didn't really know each other. She mentioned the note under her door when they went to the movies last weekend, and dinner the following night, when Ambrose had told her all about the troubles of his past. "That was when I started to think we were really getting to know each other, and something felt like it changed. The next night we went to the club and I lost my shit at him for getting jealous of the dance I did with that guy. And, Luce, I lied to you when I said I was calling my brother on Monday. I really went to the rooftop to meet him as he wanted to tell me something." Lucy had been listening with her eyebrows raised the whole time. It was almost as if she couldn't believe it. "And what happened on the roof?" she asked Claire. Claire took a big breath and tried to explain. "He told me that he felt I was different. That he couldn't put his finger on it but that he found spending time with me addictive." Lucy's mouth opened in surprise. "And what did you say?" Claire pursed her lips in awkwardness. _I don't know if I should be talking about this._ "I said that I hadn't even considered that he would be interested in me, and when I started on the road with you guys, I didn't want to get involved with anyone because I was here for my career, not for anything else." Lucy leaned forward like an excited child. "And how did he take that?" she asked. Claire sighed. "Well, I also told him that despite all that, I had found myself intrigued by him also. Basically, I told him that yes, I had some sort of feelings for him but I wasn't sure what I wanted." There was a pause while Lucy looked over the letter again. "I ended up asking him what it was he wanted. You see, he'd come clean all about his womanising and history, and said although I had no reason to trust him, he felt different about me and he was going to prove it." Lucy held the letter in Claire's direction. "By arranging massages for you?" Claire shrugged. "It would appear so. I knew nothing about this." Claire took the letter from her and re-read it. A quick buzz went through her body. It was a lovely gesture, she couldn't deny that.

Lucy was quiet for a while, which was unusual. She broke her silence with a pointed question. "You're not going to fall for it, are you?" Claire, who had been unpacking, turned sharply towards Lucy. "What?" Lucy asked innocently. "You really think a leopard can change his spots? The guy is nicknamed Titty Master for heaven's sake!" She broke into a laugh. Claire looked at her and took a big breath. _I knew I shouldn't have talked to her about it. She doesn't get it. She hasn't seen what I've seen._ "I appreciate your concern, and I know if roles were reversed I'd be saying the same thing, but I promise you he's been extremely genuine so far." Lucy looked at her dubiously. "Anyway," Claire said, exhaling in frustration. "I've not committed to anything, so you needn't worry." Lucy smirked. "I don't want you to be a number on his list Claire. The guy knows how to play the game. Butter you up with dinner and a massage, get what he wants and moves on. It's classic player material." Claire felt hurt, the Jon she'd seen wasn't like that. Sure, he wasn't a rom-com romeo; he was a little rough around the edges and nowhere near as in touch with his emotions. But she'd believed him when he said he was wanting to change. "It's not that I don't want to listen to you, Luce, but I swear, if you'd seen him, if you'd heard what he'd said, you'd think differently. I'm not going to jump into his bed in a hurry. Maybe not at all. I've told him that I need to decide what my priorities are. I won't let him make a fool of me." She went to leave for the massage, and Lucy's parting words were "Just remember, every single night, that man plays a character. He's an actor, Claire, used to reeling off lines."

During the massage, Claire tried to shut her brain down. She managed to from time to time, but Lucy's words rose into her consciousness occasionally. _Relax,_ she told herself. _Just like you told her, you've not committed to anything. And you know your rules._ Claire had always maintained she never slept with a guy in the first three weeks. Her mother had always stressed the dangers of sex when she was younger. "Make sure if you're going to sleep with a boy, that you wouldn't mind having him in your life forever. One little slip up and he could be," she used to say. This had scared Claire enough to delay losing her virginity for a while, but as she grew older, her waiting period had grown a little shorter. However, she had decided, through a little bit of trial and error experience, that three weeks was a good threshold. It gave you enough time to get to know a guy, and see if he was going to lose interest. Sometimes, it was even longer. It had generally served her well. _Sorry Jon, I've got a code to stick to._

When she returned to her room, she had received a text from Ambrose.  
 _How's your day going? Cold here today.  
_ Claire smiled. Just a casual text message, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  
 _\- Been great. In fact I just returned from a wonderful, relaxing massage. Arranged by a Mr Good.  
He sounds like a stand-up guy.  
\- I'm starting to think so.  
_"You're messaging him aren't you? I can tell by that grin on your face!" Lucy interrupted Claire's thoughts. "He's got you, Claire, I can see it." Claire shook her head. "Am I not allowed to thank him for the massage? It was a nice gesture." Lucy laughed mockingly. "Just watch yourself girl. You're standing on the edge of a cliff that many, many women have fallen off." She paused. "In fact, you better get him checked. He's probably caught something from them." Claire turned to her looking slightly insulted. "What would it take for you to consider that he was actually serious about this? If not me, then the whole 'changing his ways' thing?" she asked Lucy. "A chastity belt," Lucy replied. "Even then, I'd not put it past him to find a way."

As they took the elevator down to the bus headed for the venue, Claire turned to Lucy. "I know you don't get it, and you don't agree, but please, can I trust you not to tell anyone? I haven't made my mind up yet. People talking isn't going to help anything." She saw Lucy's face soften. "Sure," she said. "I'm sorry I've been so adamant but I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're too classy for him, honey." Claire appreciated Lucy's intentions, and hoped she was true to her word about keeping her mouth shut. _  
_


	14. First step

The shows, as always, passed in a blur, with Lucy commenting on how intense Claire had made the schedule. "It's just a house show, it doesn't matter." Claire now understood why Zane had been so keen to initiate a change. The girls had collaborated on the reports and Claire showed Lucy the trends she'd seen on Snapchat the previous week. "Far out, you care too much, girl," Lucy had laughed. As the staff had boarded the bus bound for RAW, Claire had reiterated the importance of Lucy's silence. "Tell me ," Lucy began. "Are you gonna see him tonight? After the show?" Claire assumed so; she didn't know if Eden would ask them to join their group again, or if Lucy expected the staff to go out together. "Probably in some way," Claire replied. "I kinda left him hanging last week so I think he deserves a better response." Lucy's concern was visible in her face, but to her credit, and Claire's appreciation, she kept her mouth shut.

Following the planning meeting, where Zane stressed the importance of cementing storylines ahead of the weekend's Pay-Per-View, Claire set about her allocations for the night. Lucy shot her a sly look when Zane said she had been allocated to Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose and the Usos in their combined storyline tonight. Claire tried to remain neutral, but a small smirk escaped her lips. She had a few pre-shots the team wanted of all the guys together, as well as individual post-shots. Claire wrangled the Usos and Roman together, and they found Ambrose in catering. The pair had exchanged a few text messages earlier in the day, but this was the first time they had seen each other since last Tuesday night. Claire felt her spirits lift when he smiled at her. "Come on crazy, we need you," she'd said in the catering room, trying to keep her voice level, her approach professional but friendly. Ambrose took another hurried mouthful of his food, got to his feet and made his way towards her. "Isn't this convenient?" he whispered as he passed, and fell in behind Roman as they walked up the hallway.

The group set up in a dressing room, with Claire explaining what creative had requested. "Basically, the Authority is trying to screw you guys over again, and you all know it's going to happen somehow, but not how, just yet. So, I'm thinking, Joe, if you're okay with it, of having Ambrose and the Usos sitting here, and you, standing, with the belt over your shoulder, given some sort of _Friday Night Lights_ kind of rallying cry. Us against the world type of emotion." They nodded, and Jimmy put on a voice. "Forever is about to happen in just a few minutes, boys!" They all laughed. The boys jostled with each other while they got themselves ready; Roman polished the title, the Usos finished their tapings and Ambrose wrapped the IC title around his waist. Claire didn't need to give much direction once they were in place. Roman did start talking, reciting his lines for later in the show, and his 'family' was all ears. She took a few shots from the side, one from standing high in the corner and one from behind Roman.

When she'd finished, she needed to grab a couple of shots of just the Usos, and some of Ambrose and Reigns talking strategy. Claire led Jimmy and Jey to a different corner of the dressing room and ran over the notes with them. Ambrose watched her intently. He'd bounced out of bed this morning knowing he would see her. He felt like he knew so much more about her now just from watching those dance videos. He'd seen a side of her she'd not shown here; a confidence and sexiness that wasn't as overtly obvious, but as he watched her move the guys around and dictate their poses, he recognised it was still present in the work she did day to day, if you were looking for it. "She sure knows her stuff, huh?" he heard Roman say. Ambrose snapped out of his inner monologue. "She is so much better than the guy we had on our rotation. He would hardly say a word to you, other than 'This is what is happening.' There was no consultation or anything. Claire makes it feel like you're allowed to contribute to the idea too." Ambrose nodded. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't giveaway his thoughts. Once Claire had finished with the Usos, she asked Roman and Ambrose where they thought the best setting would be for their little last-minute tactic talk. Roman suggested gorilla position, and they made their way there, trading stories of the bad weather each rotation faced over the weekend. Ambrose asked if Claire had managed to fit in a run over the weekend, and noticed an inquisitive look on Roman's face. Claire wasn't aware of it, and said she'd hit the gym Saturday morning. Roman led the way up the stairs to the curtain and Ambrose squeezed past Claire, who looked up at him through her eye lashes and smiled. Their hands brushed innocently, so quickly no one else would have noticed, but Ambrose knew Claire had felt it by the blush on her face. He watched a small grin appear before she quelled it. _Always the professional,_ he thought. As for him, he could feel the smile on his face and wondered how he was supposed to channel the lunatic now when his skin felt on fire. Claire directed them through the images like nothing had happened, thanked them, and excused herself to chase after Becky Lynch, who she had caught a glimpse of and needed to deal with.

Ambrose watched her until she disappeared around a corner. He and Roman were making their way back to the changing room. "Bro," Roman said to him, shaking his head slowly. "What?" Ambrose said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "What was that?" Roman asked. Ambrose shrugged his shoulders, trying to play it cool. "Jeez man, I am not blind. You couldn't take your eyes off her." _You're not wrong, bro¸_ Ambrose thought to himself. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to tell him the whole story, as there wasn't an actual ending as yet. Claire had left things so up in the air. But he also didn't want him to think Claire was just another target. "Don't think I didn't notice that dopey grin, man. What's that all about?" Ambrose looked at him. On TV, creative really played up their friendship, but it was true that they were close. The sudden rise of the Shield had been a fantastic bonding experience, and he, Joe and Colby were still close. If anyone knew his behavioural patterns, it would be Joe. He knew he couldn't get away with not saying anything, and Joe would call him out on it. He sighed. "I dunno, man. I can't work it out. All I know is that she's good for me, and I'm no good for her."

After the show, the same group as last week headed out. This time, Ambrose has suggested a late night café known for its array of hot and cold desserts. The weather was appalling, so they didn't plan on staying long. Lucy had been buzzing to get invited out with the roster again. "Maybe you dating Ambrose is a good thing," she'd joked to Claire as they'd prepared in their hotel room. "We are not dating!" Claire had said, a little too defensively. Over dessert, the group discussed some of the craziest things they'd seen from fans on social media. They shared crazy replies, unsolicited namecalling, dodgy photographs and fan bitch fights. Ambrose didn't have much to say, so he spent his time trying not to stare at the way Claire's eyes shone each time she laughed, or the way she brushed her hair back out of her face. He felt Joe's eyes on him a couple of times, when he'd then try to concentrate on the conversation, but it would only last a minute or two before he was drawn back to Claire. They'd made eye contact a few times across the table and Claire's supressed grin was driving him crazy.

Back at the hotel, he made a point of catching Claire's eye before the group got to the elevator. She nodded at him and told the group she was going to check out the pool, and would meet Lucy upstairs. Ambrose didn't say anything, he knew they didn't expect him to tell them his plans. He was forever off doing his own thing. He started to walk in the opposite direction from Claire so they wouldn't get suspicious, and then he followed her towards the pool. They sat on a wooden bench at one end of the pool, Claire turning to him with a grin on her face. "Hey," she said warmly. "Hey," he returned, recognising this was the first time they'd been alone together all day. There was a comfortable silence for a while. Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Ambrose stopped her. "I don't know what you're about to say, but I want you to know that I'm not expecting anything. In fact, if you don't even want to talk about stuff, then we don't have to." Actually, he really hoped she had some sort of development from last week's rooftop chat, but he wasn't exactly expecting her to jump him. She had important things to consider, he knew that.

Claire appreciated that acknowledgement. She didn't know if she was going to make the situation any clearer for him or not. She'd been beating herself up about what she was going to say tonight. She wasn't sure if it would be sufficient. "I do actually need to get it off my chest," she said, watching him tense up. _Poor guy, he is probably fearing all this emotional stuff._ "I can't say I've made any definitive decisions in the last week, Jon, but I have done a lot of thinking. In fact, too much thinking. I've over analysed and hypothesised so much my brain hurts. The only time my brain stopped hurting was when I saw you this afternoon." He tried to supress a smile, and Claire chuckled softly. "That was pretty cheesy. But, it's the truth. And what I said in my text on Wednesday was true, you were on my mind all day. So, I don't think I can deny that there's something there." Ambrose's grin grew wider. "But, my heart is weary, you need to know that. And part of the overthinking I did over the weekend was around if that trepidation was because of your past, or because of my career. And I think it's more about me than you. I'm sure everyone on the outside will see me as just another girl in your line up, but I'm not so worried about that. I believe you when you say this is different for you. Whether that makes me foolish, we'll come to see that. But I'm mainly concerned that this needs to be real; that's what I need to be certain of. That if I'm going to risk the goals I had for my career, I need to know it's going to be worth it." She looked Ambrose in the eye; he looked serious, and nodded his head. "I get that, and I do think a lot of it has to do with my past. You're just being polite. But I know that, and that's why I said I'm going to prove it to you. I just need you to let me." Claire sighed. Was she ready to let him? He certainly was saying all the right things, and again, he'd not done anything to make her think otherwise. She nodded softly. "Yeah, I will. I mean, I don't know exactly how you're going to go around proving it, but I'm willing to see what comes of this." They shared a small grin with each other, and this time, it was Claire who extended her hand out for his. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand and wrapped his fingers through hers, and brought his other hand to cover it. Claire exhaled. It felt as good as she remembered, but this time, there was an added sense of security. She felt safe, like a weight had lifted from her. "I can't guarantee it will be enough for you, but I can guarantee it'll be the best I've got," he said. They sat looking at the water for a while before Ambrose spoke up again. "This weekend, come to Atlanta early. Let's spend the day together before anyone else shows up. Let me take you on a proper date."


	15. Embrace the moment

The following day, before Smackdown, Claire met up with Eden for a coffee. "I believe you have something to tell me," Eden said once their drinks had arrived. Claire frowned, and Eden smirked. "Sweetie, I am not just a pretty face. Don't think I didn't put two and two together when both you and Ambrose stayed downstairs last night. What is going on?" Claire protested, asking why that meant that something needed to be going on, but the knowing look on Eden's face showed that it was fruitless. "Okay. Yes. We caught up on our own after you all went upstairs." She was defiant she would not say any more than she needed to, but had an impending sense of doom that Eden would get it all out of her. "Okay," said Eden. "Here's what I know. You have a photoshoot with him in a parking lot and for some reason he invites you bowling. And then you kick his ass at table hockey and he has to take you to dinner. And you have the dinner. I had no reason to think anything more of it, but then I discover you have another dinner, and go to the movies, and then you don't go to the gym one morning and he thinks he's upset you, and then now you're having private meetings? You're gonna have to fill me in." Claire looked at her suspiciously. "How do you know about the movies and dinner?" Eden smiled. "He text me because you'd given him the cold shoulder, apparently, and he wanted to know if I'd told you anything about his past. He was worried you'd heard bad things and gone off him. I didn't know you were ever… on him." They laughed at the connotation. "It's all been a bit of a blur, to be honest," Claire said. "That second dinner, we talked about so much and really got to know each other. And then he lost the plot about me dancing with that guy, and that led to him telling me he had feelings for me, that he didn't know how to pinpoint." Eden's face lit up. "I knew it!" Claire raised her eyebrows, wanting to know more. "I knew something was up when he text me. He's never cared about what anyone thinks of him, particularly a woman. When he started caring about what you thought of him, that's when I knew something was up. I even called him out about it but he brushed me off. And I saw his face last week when you were dancing. He looked like he could've punched that guy's lights out." Claire sighed and summed up the conversation she'd had with him on the rooftop. "Oh my god, this is big," Eden said. "Is it though?" Claire asked, still thinking about Lucy's warnings, despite what her heart was feeling. Eden put her coffee down and stared at Claire seriously. "Yes. This is a big deal. I told you before, we've known him a long time, and I've never known him to be like this. He's a tap it and gap it guy. And you swear he's not made a move on you?" Claire shook her head. "Not at all. Not even gone in for a kiss. Maybe I should be concerned about that?" Eden laughed. "No no. This means he really is thinking about changing. We were there the night he decided that he needed to stop being such a man whore and consider something more serious. We doubted him, but I also told him if he was going to convince someone he was worthy of being with, he'd need to readdress the whole way he looked at women. I didn't think he was listening, but he must've been." Claire listened carefully to what she had said. "But you told me yourself that I wasn't his type," she said. Eden nodded. "Yeah, that's when I thought he was still bedding every lady that walked past. But, if he's serious, I think that you'd be really good for him. Someone real."

Claire felt her mind begin to race. _Why is it this hard? Isn't it supposed to be easy and fun and full of cheesy romantic moments?_ "So what happens now? What did you talk about last night?" Eden asked. Claire summed up the discussion she'd had with Ambrose, and how he wanted to have a day together this weekend. Eden's eyes brightened. "Oh bless. He really is trying!" After a moment, Claire decided she needed Eden's opinion. "What do you reckon? Do you think I'm wasting my time? Do you think it's worth risking my reputation and job on the chance he's going to change his behaviours built up over a decade?" Eden smiled softly, looking at Claire empathetically. "The answer is, I don't know. But, from what you've told me, he's already making an effort. And that's the biggest indication I've had since I've known him." There was a short pause before she added "What type of black magic have you spun on him?" They both laughed and Claire shrugged her shoulders. She certainly didn't see any reason why he felt this way. _When he's around these beautiful Divas every night, I have no idea how I could stand out._

Claire worked with Roman, Dolph and Charlotte for Smackdown. She swung by Ambrose's dressing room after the show, as he'd requested via text message. He smiled when he saw her, and she couldn't help but return it. No matter all the back and forth going on in her head, she still meant what she had said to him last night, and what Eden had said reinforced that it was worth a try. "Just wanted to check you're okay with the plans for Friday?" he asked her. He was in a long sleeved t shirt which accentuated his muscular arms and his new, shorter hair suited him. _He looks very cute,_ she thought to himself. "Yes, that sounds great. Hopefully both our flights are on time." They'd arranged the flights last night, with hers landing an hour after his. "Great," he said with a smile. He put his bag over his shoulder. "I'm really looking forward to it, Claire." She felt her chest swell. _I'm actually really nervous about it,_ she thought, but couldn't tell him. She nodded softly. "Me too, it'll be good to spend some solid time together." He nodded, standing a couple of feet in front of her, looking at her intently. "Well, I better get going and catch that cab. I'll see you in a couple of days then." _Do it,_ she said to herself, mustering up the courage to do what she'd planned in her mind all night. She walked towards him and slid her arms under his, squeezing her left one between his body and his bag. He seemed taken by surprise initially, but she then felt him shrug his bag of his shoulder and wrap his arms around her, placing his hands against her back. Within seconds of each other, they both sighed, and Claire found herself pleased that he'd hugged her back, given what she'd been talking about with Eden; how he'd not made any moves other than holding her hand. She pulled her head back to look at him, and he looked down at her. "What's this all about?" he asked, not letting go. She could feel herself blushing, looking into his eyes. "Just didn't want to be left with the same regret as last week, and go crazy thinking about it over the next few days." She felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. "No, neither," he replied, pulling her back into his chest. They stayed like that for a moment before she pulled back, realising he had a cab waiting. "See you soon," she said. "See you soon. But text me when you get home," he said, with a final smile before he left the room.

Claire almost floated out of the dressing room. Her heart was definitely winning tonight; her brain wasn't getting a look in. As she headed to pick up her own bags, she bumped into Zane. "Claire, excellent. I've been looking for you. How do you feel about spotting the schedule on Sunday?" Claire stopped in her tracks. "But that's Carl's job." Carl was responsible for making sure all the big spots in the matches were going to be covered – knowing what segment they were happening, and creating content for every channel. Designating hashtags for character turns and what Zane called 'box office moments'. "Yes, I'm aware of that," Zane said. "I just think that this weekend, you'll do a better job than he will. Up for it?" Unease fell over Claire's previous upbeat mood. _I don't know about this…._ "Well, I'm always interested in something new, you know that. But when do you need to know by?" Zane looked at her. "There's no room for sentiment here, Claire. I know you're a soft soul, but you're going to have to get a hard edge on you. Carl's been dropping the ball, and you're making great strides. Don't worry about what he'll think – that's my job to handle. Just embrace it." Claire sighed heavily and nodded. _I feel like I'm cheating on someone._ It was another feather in her cap, but she didn't think this one would pass by as smoothly as the rotation changes.


	16. Mountain Highs

Claire's heart didn't let her sleep on the plane to Atlanta. She had been up early to catch her flight and was hoping to catch a few winks. _Who was I kidding?_ she admonished herself. She was nervous about the day with Ambrose, but she knew she was silly for thinking so. _What are you so afraid of?_ She wasn't entirely sure; she still was a little worried what impact any relationship would have on her career; she was still acutely aware of Lucy's opinion of Ambrose's intentions; and she of course, she couldn't deny, like any girl before a first date, she was a bundle of nerves, knowing she would be one on one with a man she was interested in, a man who was interested in her. There was no chance of sleeping, particularly the closer the plane got to Georgia.

When she landed and turned on her phone, there was a message from Ambrose.  
 _I've got us a car, look for a guy holding your name on a board.  
_ Claire couldn't believe it. She'd never had someone waiting for her with a board at an airport before. She picked up her bags and made her way through to arrivals. She scanned the few drivers holding boards until she found one with "Miss Claire Harris" in small plastic letters. She approached him. "Miss Harris?" he questioned. "Yes," Claire said, eyes narrowing in on his name badge. "Hello, Andrew." "Good morning, Miss Harris. Right this way. Please let me take your bags." Claire felt awkward, she was used to doing things herself. "No, it's alright. Thank you Andrew," she replied. A small grin came upon his weathered face. "Mr Good told me you'd say that." Claire smirked to herself. "What else did Mr Good tell you?" Andrew chuckled. "That information is classified, I'm afraid. Although he did tell me to look out for a very pretty lady. He got that right," Andrew said, taking the handle of her suitcase. She conceded; it was part of his job and he probably felt awkward that he couldn't assist her. Claire followed him through the airport doors and along the sidewalk. She couldn't hide her smile. Ambrose had taken good care of her. Andrew stopped suddenly, and Claire almost walked into him. "Here we are, Miss Harris," he said. "Where?" Claire said, wondering why he had stopped. "The car, Miss Harris." Claire hadn't let the vehicles they were walking past into her consciousness. When she turned to look at the car they had stopped next to, it was a long, shiny, black limousine. Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?" she asked Andrew. He chuckled. "Completely serious, Miss Harris," opening the door at the back of the car. He beckoned with his head that she should enter, and she looked at him in disbelief. "Go on, Miss Harris." Claire dropped her other bag at her feet for Andrew, and slowly slid into the car. "Hello, Miss Harris," she heard a familiar raspy voice say.

"What the hell is this all about?" Claire said to Ambrose with a laugh. He moved from the opposite side of the limo to sit beside her. "A little treat," he said. "Unless you make a habit of touring around Stamford in limousines?" Claire shook her head. "Definitely not. This is too much, Jon," Claire said, feeling quite overwhelmed. He shook his head softly. "That's for me to decide, don't you think?" Claire tried to contain her smile. "Stop doing that," he said. Claire was baffled. "Doing what?" she asked. "Holding in that smile. It drives me crazy." Claire tilted her head. "How come?" Ambrose looked at her. "Because. It looks so good on you." Claire blushed, and couldn't fight letting the smile spread. "There we go," Ambrose said. "Much better."

Andrew poured the two of them a drink before getting in the driver's seat. "Where are we off to?" Claire asked. Ambrose tapped his nose softly. "No need for you to know just yet." They laughed together. "I've never been to Georgia," Claire said, looking out the window. "Just another state to beat me in table hockey, then," Ambrose quipped. "If that's how you want to spend your day, getting your ass handed to you," Claire responded. They looked at each other with a cheeky spark in their eyes, and Claire decided that his smile suited him too. Dean Ambrose doesn't smile much, unless it's that crazed grin. This was different; relaxed, full of fun and joy. This was Jon, and being with him like this was making her heart speed up substantially.

They made small talk as the car drove out of town. Claire didn't mind the periods of silence; even though they were in and out of towns quite quickly with the company, she loved seeing all these places she'd never been to. She spent her time looking out the window, taking in the cityscape, which then turned to countryside. After just over an hour, the limo pulled into a long driveway. "You know," Claire said, "it's just dawned on me that no one knows I'm here, and I don't know where we're going or what plans you have for me…" Ambrose laughed. "I'm not kidnapping you. You're not going to end up on a milk carton." Claire was excited. Down the driveway they came to a stop in front of a series of modern units. Andrew opened the door and they both got out, to be greeted very swiftly by an immaculately dressed man. "Mr Good?" Ambrose nodded. "So lovely to have you here, right this way." Ambrose looked at Claire quickly, with a smile on his face, and started off after the man. Claire joined them, after a quick look back at Andrew, who was handing over their luggage to two men, dressed similarly to their host. "My name is Tyson, and I will be your host for your day here. Anything you need, you can contact me and I will arrange it." They continued past the edge of a lake to a unit. "Here we are, Mr Good, and Ms….?" "Harris," Claire said quickly. "Miss Harris. Well, Claire, actually." Tyson nodded. "Miss Harris. It is wonderful to have you here. Inside you will find all the information required for the unit, a menu for dinner this evening, and details on the park. Enjoy yourselves, and I will return shortly to make sure you've settled in." He opened the door and beckoned them inside, while the men carrying their luggage left it right inside the door. Claire walked in with her eyes wide. This small unit, not much bigger than her own place, had the most amazing décor and furnishings. There was a built in fire place, a huge sofa, a modern kitchen and expansive dining table. "What is this place?" Claire said, turning to Ambrose, her mouth still open in awe. "This is a day unit for visitors to the Mountain Wildlife Park. Get your walking boots on girl, we're going hiking." Claire couldn't believe it. _A place like this and we're going to go walking?_ She didn't want to think how much all this had cost. As she made her way to the bathroom to get changed, she saw a hot tub out the back. Some serious money was being spent here, and it made her slightly uncomfortable and excited in equal measure. When she emerged, Jon was in shorts and a singlet, hat pulled over his hair. "Ready?" he asked. Claire nodded, despite not knowing what it was she was agreeing to. Tyson reappeared, and led them to a quad bike, which they rode off towards the trees in the distance.

Ambrose was thrilled at how the morning had gone so far. He'd found this place last minute on the internet and they weren't going to able to take his booking, until he'd said he'd pay double the amount they were asking. It had been amusing to hear the receptionist try to maintain her composure when she realised how much money that was. It didn't bother him. He was making a lot of money, and after buying his house in Vegas, he really didn't have much to spend it on. He was hardly in one place long enough to spend great amounts of money. He knew Claire wouldn't be a girl who could be 'bought'; flashing money and jewels around wouldn't be any use. But still, he wanted to spoil her, and this sounded like a great place where they could have time to themselves with a little bit of extravagance thrown in. He had loved watching her reaction to the limo – that alone was worth the price of the hireage. As he drove their quad bike down the road towards the start of the wildlife trail, he smiled at the feel of Claire's arms around his waist. It felt familiar and comfortable, despite this being the first time. They dismounted and followed the markers for the trail. It was going to be a three hour long hike, under a canopy of tall trees, with views across the mountains and perhaps a chance encounter with some wild animals. He was certain Claire would enjoy it; she seemed to enjoy physical things, and it would give them what they both wanted – the chance to be together with no prying eyes.

There were many little conversations along the way, but their first was around fitness. "How many times a week do you work out?" Claire asked as they headed up a hill. "Depends on how the body is feeling, but five to six. I don't do a lot of cardio, really. You'll probably leave me in your dust here," he replied. Claire said she wasn't as fit as she used to be when she danced. "What was your regime like then?" he enquired. He'd seen what her body looked like then, it must've been a hell of an effort. "I didn't really need to go to the gym then. Dancing was a total body workout. I know people don't think it is, but you're constantly using all of your muscles, even in the slower dances. You probably don't believe that though, given how lame you think it is…." Ambrose tried his best to sound innocent. "I don't know how much effort goes into it, but I imagine some of them are hard work." Claire scoffed. "That's an understatement. I was dancing eight times a week when I was competing at state champs. A full warm up and warm down was necessary, or you'd feel it the next day. Most of the time I felt it the next day anyway. And cardio wise, well. Screw Jenny Craig. If you want to lose weight, try rehearsing a jive or quickstep for six hours a day." Ambrose smiled at her. "I have no idea what those are." Claire laughed. "Of course not, and quite happily too, I imagine." He kept his mouth shut but his mischievous grin set Claire off. "You know what I've always thought?" she puffed as they continued to climb the hill. "I've always thought it was the perfect thing for young boys to get into, they just needed to market it better." He shot her a look sideways. "I don't think anything would've convinced me to do it at high school." Claire responded quickly, as if she had argued this point thousands of times. "That's because the messaging is wrong. Don't say 'Come and do ballroom dancing, you'll wear tuxedos and funny heeled shoes and dance to sappy love songs.' You say 'Hey guys, come and do this. It's really good cardiovascular and muscle development, and you get to touch girls in places you couldn't usually get away with!' People could really revolutionise the art there." He laughed, and found himself remembering Claire in the mesh number on YouTube. He had to admit, teenage Jon would've been interested in finding out how he could've touched her like that. "What was your dance partner like? Did you like him?" he asked. "Yeah, he was alright," Claire answered nonchalantly. "We didn't actually have that much in common outside of dancing, but we worked well together. We trusted each other and that worked well. Jack, his name was. He was a quiet kind of kid, and the other guys at school used to give him hell for being a dancer, until he wasted them all in gym class. I don't think they'd have said it out loud, but they were impressed at his speed and strength. He had to be strong to be lifting my ass around all the time." Claire laughed, but Ambrose doubted she would've been heavy then. There was a moment's pause, before she added "Are you ready to be insulted?" He popped his head to look at her. _Where the hell is this going?_ "You may think dancing is lame, but when you think about it, and know the ins and outs of them both, it's quite similar to wrestling." He couldn't help but let out a scoff. "Oh yeah? How so?" Claire nodded. "Every night, you go out in front of a crowd and play a character. So did we. We were either long lost lovers, or jilted partners, or 1950s dance hall partygoers, or blissfully in love. Every night, you portray a story using your body as the tool. And that's exactly what we did. You have to be at the peak of physical prowess to succeed as a wrestler, and the same is true for dancing. The years of training, the rehearsing, the trust in your partner, who you're working with, and sense of achievement when you get a standing ovation. It's all the same, really." He stopped still. _God dammit, she's completely right._ Claire smirked triumphantly. "Bet you hadn't thought of it like that."

The walk was a good one, and when they reached the height of the trial, they turned back to look across the forest. "Wow," Claire said. "You'd never think you were only an hour from the city. What an amazing view." Ambrose did something he never had before. "Let's take a selfie." Claire turned to him, surprised. "You take selfies?" He shook his head. "Now's a good time to start, right?" He set the camera on his phone up and she positioned herself in beside him, pacing her hand on his arm for balance as she stood on her tip toes to get in the same frame as him. He took a few shots of them with the scenery behind them, and one of Claire admiring the view when she wasn't looking. He was happy to know he'd have pictorial evidence of their day together.

As they started their decent, Ambrose felt brave. He'd had this question on his mind from the second dinner they'd had together but never knew how to raise it. "So, how did your boyfriend take you being so close to another guy then?" Claire laughed. "You assume I had a boyfriend during high school…." Ambrose furrowed his brow. _How could she not?_ Claire continued. "That wasn't a problem I needed to worry about until senior year, and by then, it was common knowledge Jack had a girlfriend so it wasn't a big deal." Ambrose thought about his next question carefully. "So, your first boyfriend was in senior year?" Claire nodded. "Call me a late bloomer. But the truth was, I was too busy for a boyfriend. Between dancing, homework and working after school, I didn't have much time. And even then I think I only wanted a boyfriend so I had someone to go to prom with." He laughed. "Man, I wouldn't have wanted to go to prom with you, the pressure to be able to dance would be high." Claire laughed. "Actually, Jack and I ended up dancing once together at prom. We had just come second at state and decided 'Why the hell not?' Everyone was pretty weary of dancing after that." Ambrose thought he would try his luck. "So that guy, Senior Year Guy, did he follow you to Connecticut?" Claire shook her head. "No, he went to college in Philly." _Throw me a line here, girl….._ "Did you meet someone new there? A new dance partner?" Claire turned to look at him with a suspicious look on her face. "Are you trying to find out about my exes, Jon?" He raised his eyebrows casually. "Only if you want to tell me." There was silence for a minute, and Ambrose thought that meant she didn't want to share. _Perhaps that was too far at this stage,_ he thought. Then she began to talk. "I've only really had one serious relationship. A few bits and pieces here and there, but only one serious one." Ambrose cocked his head in interest. "Tom. I met him one night while waiting for a bus. He was a fire fighter. We were together for three years." _That's a long time,_ Ambrose thought. _Longer than anything I've had._ "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" Claire shrugged her shoulders. "I'm still not sure. We had all these goals and dreams for the future, and then we just grew older and things changed for us both. It wasn't messy, we just weren't the same people anymore." Ambrose nodded. He knew people could change. He was in the middle of it himself, evidently.

After a few minutes of silence, Claire spoke up. "What about you? Surely somewhere along the way one of those girls stayed for more than one night." Ambrose took in the sly grin on her face. "Not really. I had a girlfriend in high school but it wasn't much more than high school dating, where holding hands is about as much as you do." _Although at this stage, we've not moved past that either¸_ he thought. "Then when I was in Philly, I was with this girl for almost a year. And she was nice enough. She kept me company and because I didn't know any different I thought that's what it was meant to be like. But then she started talking about the future and marriage and kids and how I'd need to give up wrestling and get a real job. That was enough for me to get the hell out of there." Claire nodded. "So, do you think asking you to give up your dream was a great excuse for not having to commit?" _Ouch,_ he thought. _Way to nail it._ "I don't think so. But maybe. I don't know too many 22 year old men who are thinking those things at that age." He felt awkward. He'd always known he didn't want to commit to anyone previously, but he wasn't ready to admit that to Claire. But she'd just worked it out for herself.

The track came to an end across from where they'd left their quad bike. They were sweaty and tired; it had been a good workout. They returned to the unit and Claire suggested a relaxing soak in the hot tub. "Sounds great to me," Ambrose thought, trying not to sound too excited at the thought of her in a swimsuit. While waiting for Claire to get changed, he took the chilled champagne he'd pre-paid out of the fridge and grabbed two glasses. He set them up on the side of the hot tub when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Claire wearing a navy blue bikini with white trim. _Holy shit¸_ he thought to himself. He bit the inside of his lip as he allowed his eyes to travel the length of her body. The top was modest, not revealing too much, but holding her chest perfectly. Her stomach was smooth and soft, and her rounded hips were accented by white ties at the side of her bikini bottoms. Her legs were short, but well defined, and he had to swallow as she moved towards him. "You look… great," he managed to spit out, feeling like a clammy teenager all over again. She smiled and said "$11.99 from Target", downplaying it as if it had been the swimsuit he had been complimenting. She hopped in the water and let out a small, pleasant groan. "Yeah, that feels good on the legs after that mountain." Ambrose climbed in after her, settling in on the opposite side of the tub. Claire was red in the face, but sitting in the tub, with her hair tied loosely on top of her head, she looked very tempting. _Calm yourself,_ he chastised himself. He reached for the champagne and poured two glasses. He handed Claire a glasses and said "Cheers". She didn't return his gesture immediately. He watched as she scooted to the seat next to his, and only then did she raise her glass. "Cheers" she said softly, looking him in the eyes. Their glasses clinked and they settled in to the warm, relaxing waters.

A/N: Hi guys – a wee note that the next updates may not be as timely as you've come to expect. There's been a bereavement in our family, and while expected, I'm still going to take some time to be with my family over the next few days. Thanks for supporting the story, and Claire!


	17. Freefalling

Tyson reappeared not long after Claire and Ambrose had got out of the hot tub. "Mr Good, Miss Harris, please come with me." They hopped on the back of his golf cart and were taken to an immaculately set dinner table beside the lake. Claire shook her head as a young waiter led her to her seat. _I can't believe this place_. That didn't escape Ambrose's attention. "Do me a favour. Stop thinking. Just relax and enjoy." He smiled at her, and Claire swooned. Her chest swelled, she felt her cheeks flush and she had to divert her eyes from his, swallowing her smile. Out of everything he could be doing two nights out from a pay per view, he was having dinner with her. He'd spent the entire day with her. He'd paid a lot of money for them to have this time together. _Well, it probably isn't a lot of money to him_ , she thought. She had some knowledge of the salaries the top guys earned, and knew merchandise figures as well. But still, today probably cost a whole week's pay for her. She couldn't argue that it had been wonderful, but it made her slightly uncomfortable. _I could never do anything like this for him_. She felt his hand cover hers. "You're doing it again," he said. "Stop thinking!" His voice was jokingly firm. She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Okay, okay. Distract me then."

As the waiters poured drinks and took their meal orders, Ambrose asked Claire about her school and college years. He wanted to know everything; her favourite subjects, her best teachers, what she hated, her test results. Claire answered his questions, then asked "Why are you so interested?" He shook his head softly. "I was no good at school. I never had the right guidance and I made bad choices. There are times now where I wish I'd paid more attention in class. I am very lucky my career has worked out. I'm acutely aware that I could be one injury away from it all being over." Claire felt for him. Like any athlete, you can only last as long as your body did. It had happened to a lot of her friends who had put all their eggs in the dancing basket. "Yeah, that's true. But surely if it all ended tomorrow, you'd never have to work another day in your life. Not to get into personal financial matters, of course," she added quickly. He dipped his head in gentle acknowledgement. "Financially, sure. But what would I do with myself? I have no other skills. I couldn't take just sitting around and counting cash. I'd need to keep my brain busy or I'd actually end up in an asylum." Claire smirked. "There's always Hollywood. More brooding cop stories to be told." They chuckled, but she realized the seriousness of what he was saying. "Does it cross your mind at all, any of that?" She watched as he screwed his face up. "You can't let it. The moment that creeps into your mind, you hold back. And it's usually when you hold back that something goes wrong. What we do is safe, if you do it well. So you've got to be 100% in the moment or it could all be over." She mused on that for a moment, before dinner was brought to them. As they waiters retreated, leaving them to their dinner on the lakeside, Claire raised her glass. "My turn. Thank you for today, it has been incredibly awesome." He raised his glass to hers. She saw his face turn serious. "It's been one of the best days I've had in a long time." As he stared into her eyes, Claire's heart was beating so hard she could feel it reverberating in her ears. "So thank you" he added, as he took a swig of his drink. Claire felt the smile spread across her face, and her cheeks begin to burn. She ducked her head and turned her eyes down to her meal. "Why do you do that? Why can't you hold my gaze? You'd suck at a staring contest," he chuckled. _Only with you_ , she thought. When she turned her face to him, his eyebrows were raised, wanting an answer to his question. Claire swallowed. "Because. I can't stop smiling." A smirk appeared on his face. "And why is that a problem?" It happened again, and Claire diverted her eyes and shook her head, laughing. "I love it when there's a smile on your face," he said. "Especially as a result of something I've done." She raised her eyes to him again, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, well that's happening a lot lately." They grinned at each other for a moment, then finished their meal.

As the waiters cleared their plates, Ambrose turned to them and said they'd like to walk back to the unit. "Let's take the long way," he suggested, and they set off to circumnavigate the lake by the light of the moon. Conversation turned to vacations, and Claire was in the middle of telling him about their family trip to Disneyland in the mid-90s when she felt his hand slide into hers. She stopped, mid-sentence, and turned to look at him. He kept walking, not turning to her, as if nothing had happened. Claire turned back and continued her story, noting a sly grin appear on his face out of the corner of her eye.

When they returned to the unit, they packed up their things and were driven on a cart back to the main building, where Andrew was waiting with the limousine. "Looks like you have had a wonderful day, Miss Harris" he said as he opened the door for her. "I really have," she replied, sliding into the car. She watched Ambrose shake his hand before he followed her in. He sat so close to Claire their legs were touching, and she recognized the warm buzz that reached her brain. She felt like a teenager, swooning and smiling uncontrollably like she had today. _Regain your composure_ , she told herself. But an instant later, she admonished that. Tomorrow, when their colleagues arrived, would be the time for composure. Tonight, there were no witnesses, no need to worry about reputations or repercussions. As Jon's hand found hers once more, she allowed her head to fall gently on against his shoulder. She felt him sigh softly, and squeeze her hand. _This is nice_ , Claire thought. _But I wonder what other plans he has for the night._

The limo pulled into the hotel and Claire felt her heart drop a little. Their day was over. _Or is it?_ Andrew unloaded their bags, and wished them a good night. Ambrose shook his hand once more, and Claire thanked him. They went to the check in desk, where she learned Ambrose had booked them separate rooms, next to each other. "Loyalty points," he quipped. As they made their way up to the 9th floor in the elevator, Ambrose asked "Do you want to grab breakfast in the morning?" Claire nodded, and replied "What do you say we work up an appetite before then? Come running with me." He screwed up his nose. "Ugh, cardio….," he moaned. Claire smirked. "If we go running, then I can have pancakes for breakfast. There's always a method to the madness." There was a pause. "And anyway, running is a relative term. You could probably walk and keep up with me." He chuckled. The doors opened and they walked down towards their rooms. He stopped outside 922, and handed her the key for 924. Claire looked at the key, and then up at him. She wasn't sure what she wanted to happen, but she was disappointed to be leaving him. "See you in the morning," he said smiling at her. She let go of her suitcase and closed the small gap between them. He opened his arms and welcomed her into his chest. Gently, he placed a hand on her hair and held her head against him. She tried to listen for his heartbeat, but she was on the wrong side of his chest. _Or maybe I don't make his heart race the way he makes mine._ She pulled back from him, and felt his hands slowly, with reluctance, fall from her. There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other. Claire felt a smile creep on to her face, and he smirked as she had to close her eyes. He stepped towards her and grabbed her left hand. Maintaining eye contact with her, he brought her hand up to his lips, and kissed it softly. "Sleep well, Miss Harris," he said gently, before opening his door and disappearing, with one last smile in Claire's direction.

Claire entered her room and fell back on to the bed. She brought her hands up behind her head and stared at the roof. A heavy, contended sigh left her chest and she found herself shaking her head. She knew this feeling. The way you found yourself so caught up in something, in someone, and by the time you come up for air, it was far, far too late to do anything about it. She could feel herself standing on the edge of it, almost certain of which way she was heading. "Shit," she said out loud, knowing she was doing everything she hadn't wanted to do when she started with the company. _But I can't do anything to stop it._


	18. Giving in

Ambrose had never been more excited to go running. He had been awake quite late last night, replaying a lot of the key moments from the day in his head. He had looked at the picture they had taken at the top of the mountain. They were both smiling, and he was focusing on his rather than Claire's. He stared at himself smiling back at him. The smile was wide, all teeth, and his eyes seemed to have a life in them that he didn't recognize. _I can't remember the last time I saw a photo of me looking that genuinely happy_. He recalled how he'd told Claire he thought he'd been happy before he met her, but now the parameters had changed. As he got dressed in workout gear, he asked himself what it was about her that made him act this way. Or more accurately, not act like he used to. _It's everything_ , he thought. There's something about her; her smile, her eyes, her positivity, her intelligence. The way she seemed like she had her shit all figured out. All of it made him act differently around her, like a force he couldn't control. And for some reason, it made him want to go running at 7am.

He met Claire in the hallway. She was already waiting for him, dressed in Lycra running pants, a yellow singlet and black jacket. She was wearing a head band with her hair in a ponytail. "Morning Rambo," he said to her. "Morning sleepyhead. You're late," she replied. "My track history considered, I'm actually pretty early," he said as they made their way to the elevator. They headed south from the hotel and stopped and started for a few blocks until Claire spotted a park. They agreed to three laps. Despite Claire's comment last night, Ambrose found she ran at a reasonable pace, and for someone who didn't focus on cardio, he had to work hard to keep up with her for the duration of the run. They didn't enter into much conversation, which suited him as he was taking in big breaths. As they commenced their third lap, it began to rain. He frowned and slowed. Claire turned back to him. "What?" she said, throwing her arms out, jogging backwards gently. "I know you live in the desert but you can't be afraid of a little rain?" She had that cheeky look on her face, the one he'd seen from across the hockey table that first night. "Come on, it's good to get a little wet sometimes!" Claire's smile quickly morphed into horror as she realized the alternate connotation her statement could have. He watched as she closed her eyes in embarrassment and turned back to continue running. He felt something stir deep within him. _Jesus girl_ , he thought. He took off after her, keeping his eyes fixed on her backside until he was beside her. They managed to get halfway round the park before the heavens opened. It was bucketing down. Ambrose could hardly see; the rain was bringing sweat down into his eyes. "This is ridiculous!" he said, and tackled Claire around her waist, forcing her under the nearest tree. She squealed then laughed as he drove her back against the tree trunk. He smirked at her, jokingly trying to push him away. He held her arms down at her sides and looked up at her. She was soaked. Her hair had gone slightly frizzy and her face was wet; be it sweat or rain, he wasn't sure. Her cheeks were red from running, her eyes a deep shade of blue. Her chest was moving up and down quickly, and despite the exertion of the run, he could still smell her distinctly Claire fragrance. She looked and smelled so tempting. He was so close to her. _I could so easily kiss her, right here and now_. But he shook his head. _Not in public, and not if she doesn't want it_. He forced himself to let her go, and take a step back. He couldn't read the expression on Claire's face; he couldn't tell if she was uncomfortable or disappointed. _Or maybe relieved. Or oblivious_. He was no good at knowing what women wanted, unless they made it abundantly obvious. And Claire certainly didn't.

They stayed the rain out for five minutes or so, then made a run for it back to the hotel between downpours. Claire checked her watch. It was almost 9am, and the first members of the staff would start arriving at 11 or so. They didn't have much longer together. She felt her heart drop. She was looking forward to seeing Lucy, Carl and Eden, but she didn't want this time with Ambrose to finish just yet. She decided to try and extend their remaining private time. "Instead of going out for breakfast," Claire started, "how about we just get room service pancakes? No point going out again in this weather. Have a shower and come over after that?" He looked a little taken aback by the suggestion, so she quickly added "Or not. You know. If you want to do your own thing, then that's fine too." Ambrose shook his head softly, and as they reached their hotel rooms, he turned to her and raised his eyebrows. "Race ya."

Claire flew into action. Not only did she have to get showered and dressed to look presentable, but she also had to pack her bags. Whilst Ambrose had taken care of her room for the night, she had to check out of this one and into the room she would be sharing with Lucy. As she showered, she told herself she would need to be 100% on her game this weekend, ensuring she didn't let it slip that she had been in town an extra day. She was certain Lucy would be hunting for any Ambrose-related information, and she needed to keep a tight grip on what had happened. Plus, the time they'd had together had been so nice that she didn't want it tainted by anything, least of all workplace gossip. That was enough to remind her to watch what she was saying.

Within half an hour, she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to Ambrose, dressed in loose fitting jeans and a faded t-shirt. His hair was wet, which made him look more like Dean Ambrose than he had since they got to Atlanta. "Have you called room service yet? I'm starving. How do you not eat everything in sight after running?" Claire let him in, saying "You've got it round the wrong way. I run because I eat everything in sight." He sat down on the desk and picked up the phone. "You want anything else? Pancakes times two?" Claire nodded, and while he was on the phone, she finished packing her bag. She found Zane's notes the team would be discussing in the planning meeting this evening. She'd conveniently ignored the potential frustrations which could come out of Zane's reshuffle. Her mind had been happily focused on other things, but she couldn't hide from it much longer. She shook it from her mind, and watched Ambrose stretch himself out on the sofa across the room. _Enjoy this, soon you'll have your business face on and have to pretend he doesn't have a hold on you._

They chatted idly until there was a knock at the door. Claire went to retrieve their breakfast, and returned to see Ambrose flicking through Zane's notes. "Wow, this is intense. Who'd have known so much thought went into a tweet," he said, thumbing the pages. Claire scoffed as she put the trays down on the table. "Funny. We overthink our tweets, and the rest of the world underthinks them." She took him a plate of pancakes, and then sat on the floor opposite him, with her breakfast on the coffee table. As they ate, Ambrose asked "How's the Carl situation?" Claire sighed. "Shit's going down this weekend, and I'm at the centre of it. I've not had the chance to talk to Carl, and I doubt Zane will explain anything to him. If tables were turned, I'd want to hear from my boss why this was happening." She explained how Zane wanted her to spot the schedule, and how that announcement was expected to occur at the planning meeting later. "Like I told you the other day," Ambrose said with his mouth full, "you can't blame yourself for him not doing his job properly. Zee's figured it out that you're good at this stuff, and like any workplace, the cream rises to the top." Claire nodded gently. "But Carl's a bit of a firecracker. He can get real angry when things don't go his way. Lucy told me once he threw his toys when one of the roster wanted to completely change something. Apparently it almost came to blows." Ambrose let out one sharp laugh. "I know who my money would be on, even without knowing who you're talking about." He took another mouthful. "Look, I think you don't give yourself enough credit. You're too busy looking at where you want to be and how you're going to get there, rather than looking to see how far you've already come and that maybe this is happening because you're doing a great job, and deserve it. If Carl can't hack the pace, then f—k him." Claire cocked her head at him. _That's actually really insightful,_ she thought. And he was right. She didn't reflect enough on what she'd done; she was always more focused on what was next and how she could deliver beyond expectation. _I bet Carl doesn't take into account that I was at HQ for almost two years; it's not like I just came on the scene a couple of months ago and am kicking him out._ Maybe Ambrose was right. Maybe she should accept the compliment from Zane, and Carl just needed to raise the bar.

After they'd finished breakfast, Ambrose asked Claire her plans for the day. She needed to check-out and check-in again, and Lucy would be arriving shortly after that. "I imagine Lucy will want to head out for a coffee, but I'm going to try and convince her to do that here, while we do some homework." Ambrose screwed up his face. "Homework is lame. It's a Saturday." Claire shook her head. "Homework is what gets you promotions. It's like going harder in the gym, lifting heavier, training longer. Just in the brain instead of the biceps, or whatever." He smiled at her softly and Claire felt her stomach flip. She continued, telling him the planning meeting was set for 4pm and expected to go at least two hours. "I don't have any plans for tonight, at this stage. Do you?" Ambrose shook his head. "I was waiting to find out what you were doing. Hopefully one of the resident party-planners has it all figured out." Ambrose mentioned he had media to do from 2-4pm, with no plans to follow. Claire nodded as they walked towards the door. "Well, I'm sure between us we'll work something out. That is, if you want to see me again tonight. You may get Claire fatigue," she laughed. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, before he turned to her. "I struggle to believe there is such a thing," he said looking her dead in the eye. Claire felt that familiar heat rise in her cheeks, as she blinked and involuntarily lowered her head to avoid eye contact, she felt his fingers under her chin. "Don't," he said softly, almost a whisper, as he gently pushed her chin up, until her eyes were looking at his again. As she looked at him, she felt his thumb trace along her jawline. Claire's throat dried up and her whole body tingled at his touch. He was so close to her, and this was the first time he touched her with intent, besides the innocent hand holding. She tried to say his name but no words came to her mouth. She swallowed again and licked her lips, his fingers and thumb still running gently around her face. _Surely he can hear my heart,_ she thought. _It feels like an earthquake._ He took a small step towards her, and Claire held her breath. "Claire?" he said, not taking his eyes off her. She tried to respond but all that happened was her mouth opening slightly. His eyes flicked there momentarily, before returning to hers. "Can I please kiss you right now?" She let out the breath she'd been holding, and stared at him. She nodded silently; she was like a deer in headlights, unable to function. She saw him smile softly, and his hand moved from under her chin to the side of her neck. He maintained eye contact with her as lowered his mouth to hers. As their lips touched, Claire's eyes closed, and she felt a spark run through her. He moved his lips against hers slowly; once, twice, three times, and she inhaled his scent through her nose. After having been so frozen, she felt like he had breathed life into her, and just as she raised her hands to his sides, he pulled his lips away from her. When she opened her eyes, his face was only an inch away from hers. She felt him let out a soft breath, and his hand slowly dropped from her neck. He licked his bottom lip and then bit it gently. _Again,_ Claire found herself willing him. But instead, he took another step back. "Thank you," he said, before he gave her hand a quick squeeze and opened the door. Claire had no words as he walked to his door. "See you later, hopefully," he said as he entered his own room. Then he was gone, and Claire was left leaning against the door frame, staring blankly at the door across the hall. _Did that just happen?_ she asked herself. The thudding of her heart and foreign taste on her lips confirmed it. She closed the door and fell backwards on to the bed. A grin crept on to her face, and she shook her head a few times, before sighing and closing her eyes, reliving the moment. 


	19. Animosities

It was an hour or so later that Lucy arrived. Claire had checked out and back in again to the room they'd be sharing over the weekend. Lucy was full of conversation; about her neighbours' annoying dog back home, about the children screaming on the flight and the cute cab driver she'd had on the way to the hotel. Claire kept her mouth shut and listened. "And how are you? Have a good couple of days?" Lucy asked. "Yes, nice and relaxing, didn't get up to much. A few chores, a walk, and then it's time to do it all over again." Lucy nodded, and picked up the notes Claire had prepped and left on the counter. "Don't tell me you're going to be working today?" she asked. Claire looked at her and shrugged. "There's a lot going on online at the moment, Luce. We need to keep on top of it." Lucy shook her head. "No we don't. We're not on the clock until 4pm. And I intend to hit the mall." Claire chuckled to herself. "Okay. Well, if you change your mind, I'm going to be downstairs in the bar having a coffee and being a nerd." Lucy laughed. "Okay, and if you change your mind, I'm going to be at the mall having a life." They smiled at each other in jest as Claire left the room.

Claire had been flicking through the company's various social media channels for almost an hour when she jumped at the chair opposite her being pulled out from under the table. She looked up to see Eden giggling. "Sorry honey, didn't mean to frighten you," she said. Claire was glad to see her. She felt like she needed a chat to someone slightly less biased against Ambrose. Eden sat down and looked at Claire's piles of paperwork. "You work too much." Claire chuckled. "Or maybe everyone else doesn't work enough," she replied. Eden rolled her eyes. "Anyway…. How did it go? What happened? I was disappointed you didn't text me every detail last night!" She paused, and leaned closer to Claire. "Or were you busy last night?" Claire smirked. "No, no. I was on my own last night. After quite a pleasant day." She went on to tell Eden about the day in the mountains, their hot tub and moonlight dinner. She left out the kiss; Claire couldn't trust her cheeks to not flush and give away too much. While she recounted her day with Ambrose, Eden grinned and her eyes grew wide. "That sounds so lovey!" she said excitedly when Claire had finished talking. "I should get Cody to take me there. But anyway, did it help you with your indecision?" Claire shook her head gently. "If anything, it's just clouded my mind even more." She could see Eden wanted her to delve further into that, but Claire wasn't up for it at the moment. She imagined that Lucy would be questioning her at some stage today about the state of affairs with Ambrose, and she didn't want to get herself all worked up twice today.

Eden's coffee arrived, and the two chatted idly for a few minutes. "Well," Eden started, "you'll be seeing him again tonight as I've got a great evening planned. We're going to this really exclusive place uptown, you're going to love it." Claire frowned. Exclusive didn't sound like her kind of scene. "Sounds fancy. What's the dress code? I didn't bring anything more flash than jeans," she groaned. _Maybe I should've gone shopping with Lucy,_ she thought. Eden brushed her hand through air dismissively. "Don't worry, you can borrow something of mine," she said casually. Claire scoffed. "Ah, no I can't. Have you seen these hips? Something of yours wouldn't fit over my big toe." Eden looked at her with faux anger. "Don't be stupid. I've got something which will work perfectly, accentuating those hips. You'll look great," she replied. "In fact, I'm sure it will leave someone in particular with his jaw on the floor." Claire shook her head gently; that would never be her intention, dressing to impress, but she couldn't help but feel a little flip in her stomach at the thought of Ambrose not being able to take his eyes off her. "Okay," she agreed. "But nothing over the top, okay? I want modesty, please." Eden smiled. "Just leave it all to me, my dear."

Just as Eden was readying to leave, Claire pulled her back. "Just quickly – do you think he'll care about me not wanting people to know about us?" Eden sat back down on her chair and looked at Claire sympathetically. "No," she replied, shaking her head gently. "Do you think he will?" Claire felt her mouth twist in indecision. "Maybe not right now, but perhaps eventually. I don't want him to feel like he's my dirty little secret, you know? I want to have the chance to explore any feelings in private before the whole world knows." Eden leaned across and grabbed her hand. "I know, honey. And I'm sure he does too. That seems entirely sensible." Claire nodded. "Thanks. It's good to have some balance. The only other person who knows is Lucy, and she doesn't seem to want to give him a chance." Eden laughed. "I can see why. But she doesn't know him like I do. And I don't know him like you do now," she added. "Just do what you've got to do, Claire. I'm sure he won't mind."

Claire made her way to the hotel's conference room where she found Zane talking to Carl. She wished she could tip toe her way out of the room, but both men had seen her enter. "Claire," Zane said. "Come on in. Should've known you'd be early. What have you got there?" Claire tried to downplay the work she had done this morning, as she could feel Carl's eyes on her. _He knows,_ she thought to herself, _and he's not pleased with me._ Zane took her notes and thumbed through them. "Interesting work. We'll talk about this afterwards." Claire tried smiling at Carl but he wasn't having it. His eyes were dark and narrow, and Claire felt deeply uncomfortable. _I wish I knew what had been said between them._ Soon, others arrived and the tension dissipated slightly. Even when Lucy arrived, sitting next to her, Claire still didn't feel right. Carl's expression hadn't changed, and he was now burning holes in the table with his eyes.

Zane commenced the meeting by going over the winners for the following evening, and how the storylines had been portrayed on social media over the past couple of weeks. On the projector, he showed the most successful posts for each storyline since the last PPV. Some had had weeks of build up; others were hastily thrown together in the last two TV shows of the week. He pointed out that engagement had been high on behind the scenes shots, and they were seeing more interest on Snapchat than usual. "Claire spent a few weeks tracking our Snapchat figures, and there was some really insightful stuff there, team. In short, less is more. The Universe likes the small snippets we show them. So use Snapchat where you can, even do a couple of shots on that for each match. Get some behind the scenes stuff. I think that, combined with our Twitter results across all our accounts, micro-micro blogging is what they're looking for. Make it short, sharp and punchy, no matter your channel okay? Don't blab on." Claire saw a few eyes flick her way, but Carl's were not among them. He stared down into his notes and didn't move. Lucy gave her a playful elbow and raised her eyebrows. "Teacher's pet," she whispered, followed by a giggle.

Zane continued on, reminding everyone of the hashtags for the evening, the title changes and the big spots to expect. Claire noticed Carl's face contort when Zane mentioned the spots. She could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. _This is going to suck,_ she thought. Zane finished with a few extra points on Snapchat, and as everyone left the room, he was yelling "Short and sharp!" at them. He beckoned Claire to join him at the front of the room. She shrunk against the wall to let Carl past her; he didn't even raise his eyes. He walked right past her and out the door. Once the room was clear, Claire felt her chest release slightly. "Well, that looked like it went well," she said sarcastically. Zane looked at her pointedly. "The man's just been told he's being outgunned on every level. His pride has been dented." He tidied up a few things, and then looked at her again. "Don't feel bad for him, Claire. He's been here five years and thinks because of his seniority, certain things are owed to him. He's not delivering like he used to, especially when you're brining the interest and passion that you are. This," he said, taking her notes from her, "this is why. You're not on the clock this morning, but you've reviewed all the channels for the latest responses. Carl couldn't care less; he's probably been playing X Box or watching hotel porn or something. You're bringing it, and he's not responding. I've just spelled that out to him, and he didn't like it. A kick up the ass is exactly what he needs." Claire swallowed. He'd praised her, but she still felt like she was in the wrong. "Did you tell him it was your decision?" she asked tentatively. Zane raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter whose decision it was, Claire. But if you're wanting to know if I dropped you in it, the answer is no. I told him that I was giving you the spots because you had been working hard and deserved a shot. I've offered Carl other work for the show, and he's considering that overnight." Claire wondered what that could be. And she was glad Zane had made it clear to Carl it wasn't her gunning for his spot. All she was trying to do was do her job well, and cater to the needs of their audience.

Zane discussed the spotting schedule with her, and she turned to leave. "Claire?" he called out to her. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to him. "I know you're not comfortable with taking work off your friends. That's always tough. But any animosity, you let me know about it. I want you to know that me, creative and the bosses are all pleased with your work so of course we're going to get you to produce more of it. You're not the problem here. It's up to everyone else to come to your level." Claire nodded gently and thanked him. "Now go out and have fun tonight. No work, that's an order. Do whatever it is young people do in Atlanta on a Saturday night."


	20. Uptown Escapes

Eden had invited herself to Claire and Lucy's room to get ready for the evening out. Lucy was beyond excited. "She is just so glamourous; I have massive style envy." _And paycheck envy,_ Claire thought. It would be nice to have a paycheck like those on the roster to afford fancy outfits, but just like Ambrose had said, there probably comes a point when you have everything you need. _Still,_ she thought, _just a small taste of not having to stress about bills and being able to treat yourself would be nice._

Eden arrived with four outfits hung over her arm. "Your fairy godmother has arrived!" she declared as she waltzed through the door. Lucy was dying to see what she had picked out for Claire. "She's such a grandma with her clothes," Lucy said, as if Claire wasn't in the room. "You're going to bring her into this century." Eden smiled at Claire softly. "No, I know the rules. And, I know exactly what will look good on her. It will be simple, but elegant." Claire was relieved. At least someone in the room was on her side. Eden complimented her hair and makeup choices, and laid out the four options on the bed. "I definitely have my favorite," she said, turning to Claire, "but you get to choose. You won't go wrong with any of these." _How did I get into this again?_ she asked herself. She surveyed the dresses on the bed and immediately ruled out two; one was bright orange – she would look like an oversized traffic cone; the neckline on the other was far too low to wear in public. _If not at all_. She picked up the remaining two and held one up against her. "Yes!" shouted Eden. "That's the one I thought you'd go for. Perfect. Let's see it on then."

Ambrose felt like it had been an age since he'd seen Claire. Since he kissed her. He'd replayed that moment in his head all day; the colour of her eyes, the softness of her skin, the taste of her lips. It had taken everything in him to pull back and walk away from her, especially when she looked like she wanted more. He had desperately wanted to kiss her again, but he'd feared he'd get carried away. All it would've taken was for her to pull him back into her and he was sure he wouldn't have been able to stop himself. He was quite proud of himself actually; he was trying to treat Claire different, like she deserved. He was trying to be a gentleman. It was a new position for him to be in, and he wasn't sure how successful he had been. He hoped that by walking away, he had proved to Claire that he wasn't just about getting her into bed. He'd already surprised himself with that. Yes, he definitely wanted to sleep with her; he had thought about that several times. But he wanted to do it right. He was surprised by the way he wanted to delay sleeping with her until he was sure she wanted it too, surprised by how 'right' he wanted it to be. Surprised by the fact he was thinking of 'sleeping with her' rather than 'f—king her'. Ordinarily he'd take any bed or wall he could. But not for Claire. He wanted it to be perfect.

Eden had text him earlier in the day saying they had been invited to some opening of a bar uptown somewhere. It sounded far too wanky for him, but she had stressed that Claire would be going, so that's what made him put his good clothes on. He headed down to the lobby where, to no one's surprise, everyone else was waiting for him. He scanned the group until he found Claire. Her back was to him, but he would've recognised the shape of her body anywhere. Someone must've mentioned his arrival, as Claire turned and smiled at him. _Holy shit_ , he thought, as he felt the air leave his lungs. The dress she was wearing clung tightly to her body and highlighted her curves. It was black with silver sections over her stomach and hips. The curved neckline dropped just low enough to allow for a glimpse of cleavage but nothing too over the top. He couldn't stop his eyes from wandering up and down her body, and bit his lip as he did so. _She looks incredible, irresistible._ He wondered how he was meant to keep his hands to himself for the evening, especially now he knew how good she tasted. He tried to compose himself, returning her smile, and fell into the group next to Roman, so not to make things too obvious.

Three cars were waiting to take them to the bar. Ambrose found himself in the car with Roman, Eden and Cody. Eden winked at him from across the back seat of the car and his suspicions were confirmed. He didn't think Claire would've put on a dress like that without encouragement. Lucy seemed like she'd be bad enough, but with Eden on board, Claire would've had no choice. Still, he couldn't be too upset with that. Claire looked great, and he had Eden to thank for that.

When the cars arrived at the venue, there was a makeshift red carpet and a few photographers hoarding guests together for pictures. The car Claire was in had arrived before theirs, and he saw the relief appear on her face as he and his fellow passengers climbed out of their car. Someone called out their names and all attention turned to their group. He smirked as Claire and her workmates snuck inside with no one taking their photo. _She'll be so pleased with that._

The groups reconvened once inside. The bar was full of people; there was what looked like a cat walk coming down the middle of the room, with tables and booths filling up the space. Black seemed to be the theme, combined with red accents around the bar, the furniture and windows. Everybody in the room seemed very self-important and caught up in each other's presence. _Probably a whole bunch of Georgian C grade celebs I've never heard of._ He positioned himself opposite Claire as the group sat down at the table. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he felt a grin appear on his face. _Everyone in this place is going to know about us by the end of the night,_ he thought, trying to reign in his reaction.

Claire felt so out of place. She'd never even been into a bar like this, let alone on opening night, surrounded by people who thought they were God's gift. She was glad to be here with Lucy. She would've felt okay coming with Eden anyway, but knowing that Lucy was as far down the fame pecking order as she was, Claire was much more comfortable. She was also glad for Lucy's presence given the looks Ambrose had been giving her. Eden had been right; he looked blown away by Claire's appearance and it had made Claire blush. He had scrubbed up well himself, with black dress pants and a light blue collared shirt, on which he'd rolled the sleeves up to create the smart-casual look. His hair was relatively under control, and Claire had felt her stomach flip when she'd seen him. He definitely looked handsome, and she was hoping that he'd gone to the effort for her benefit. With Lucy and her judgemental attitude present, Claire knew she would be much less likely to throw herself at him across the table.

Also making Claire uneasy was Carl. He too had put on some formal clothes for the outing and joined them, but was yet to say anything to her. This was a buzzkill for Claire; she had been looking forward to having a few drinks and enjoying the evening, but every time she looked at Carl she remembered the ice of his stare in the boardroom. _This isn't fun, and it's not fair_ , she thought. Just like Ambrose and Zane had said, none of this was her fault. When Dolph went to grab a drink, Claire decided she would be adult in the situation and try to break the ice.

"Hey, you dust off quite well, don't you?" she said, not sure anything would be a good opening line. He kept his head facing towards his drink, and took a quick glimpse at her out of the corner of his eye. Claire sighed, and lowered her voice. "Come on Carl, please. Just talk to me about it." Carl snapped his head in her direction. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me to be overjoyed that you've taken my job? That you're the reason I got demoted to the B rotation? Zee's watching my every move and all I'm doing is getting criticised, and then I find out it's because you're taking my place? Yeah, sure. Let's have a talk about it." He took several gulps of his drink and slammed it back on the table. Claire felt her palms begin to get clammy. She hated confrontation. "I didn't ask for any of this. I just did my job and Zane gave me these opportunities. He didn't tell me he was changing the rotations, and he didn't give me any choice about that. I never said yes to spotting the schedule. He told me I was doing it and I said that was your job. He told me he had found something else for you to do." Carl screwed his face up. "Why are you trying so hard, Claire? Are you trying to take us all down? Trying to get us fired, or made redundant? Do you want to run this place on your own?" Claire shook her head. "Never! I am the same person I was a week ago, two weeks ago. I am your friend, Carl." He scoffed. "Right now, I don't feel like you're being overly friendly." There was a long pause, and Claire was getting frustrated. She knew he wasn't going to be reasonable, it was still too raw for that. But she also didn't think it was her responsibility to try and correct that. "What would you like me to do? I'll tell Zane I don't want to spot the schedule, if you like? Because yes, while I would love the chance to do it, I don't want to step on toes, and even less do I want to piss you off." The look on his face showed her it was too late for that. "Somewhere deep inside maybe I know it wasn't your intention, but right now, I'm super pissed because I've lost my responsibilities and you're the one who has taken advantage of that. Of course I'm angry at you. Can you just leave me alone now?" Claire nodded gently. _At least you gave it a shot._

She took herself off to the bathroom, squeezing past women in skimpy clothes and men chatting them up. There were air kisses and 'likes' and 'oh my gods' everywhere. _It's not just the personalities which are fake either,_ she thought. As she waited for a cubicle, the girl behind her asked, in a thick Southern drawl, where she was from. "I'm from Pennsylvania, but I live in Connecticut now," Claire replied. The girl looked confused. "Oh no, like, what agency are you from?" Now it was Claire's turn to be confused. To clarify herself, the girl continued. "Do you work for a modelling agency? Are you, like, accepting portfolios? I have mine on a USB if you'd like to take it with you?" Claire almost laughed. "No, no. I don't work for a modelling agency, sorry." The girl took a step back and looked Claire up and down. "Oh, are you here with that plus size company? I'm totally all about that. You curvy girls have all the power these days. I love it when you guys are like, on covers and stuff. It's all very empowering and totally awesome." _Oh my god._ Claire blinked slowly, and thankfully a cubicle became free. As she made her way towards the door, the girl offered her a USB. "You can take it anyway, and pass it on to your colleagues!" Claire raised her hand and shook her head gently. Once the cubicle door was closed, Claire threw her head back in frustration. She pulled her phone out of her clutch. There was a message there from Ambrose.

 _I can't keep my eyes off you. You look amazing._

Claire's heart skipped a beat. She had figured Ambrose appreciated her appearance tonight but hearing him say it, well, seeing him write it, was something else.  
 _\- You don't look so bad yourself, sir.  
_ Claire went about her business and then checked her phone again.  
 _Where are you? I saw you talking to Carl but now?  
\- I came to the bathroom. A bit of a queue. This place is insane. I feel like a fish out of water.  
Same. Wanna blow it off? If we leave now, we might be able to catch the hockey.  
_Claire smiled. She'd probably have taken any option to get away from these fake people and the icy daggers from Carl. But watching hockey with Ambrose was everything she didn't know she wanted.  
 _\- Absolutely.  
I'll meet you by the stairs in ten. _

Claire retuned to the group to see Carl still in his seat, looking angrily into his beer. Dolph and Roman were deep in discussion, and Cody was by himself. "Where's your lady?" Claire asked, finishing her own drink. "Her and Lucy have gone up to the stage. Apparently there's going to be fashion show shortly," he replied. "Don't you want to join them?" Claire looked at him dubiously. "I am wearing one of your wife's dresses because all I had in my suitcase was jeans. Do you think I want to be front row for the fashion show?" He laughed, and she felt her phone vibrate.  
 _I'm in position. Escape when you can.  
_ Claire tried to hold in her smile. "Maybe I'll grab a drink and try and track them down," she said. She took a look at the rest of the men at the table. None of them would notice her leaving. Especially not Carl. He'd not notice her absence for the rest of the night, she imagined. She gathered her things, walking the long way to the door, via the bar, to make her story at least look viable.

Ambrose was waiting in the corner of the entry stairwell. He grinned at her as she neared him. Claire desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, to have him touch her, but they were in in public. Everyone else did seem far too occupied with themselves to notice them, but if was safer to keep a distance. "I've called a cab," he said over the noise. "He's waiting for us out the back." They made their way through the small groups dotted in the hallway and out the back door. Once they were in the cab, Ambrose reached across for Claire's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. He looked relieved, she thought. _It's totally not his scene either._ She watched as he leaned across the seat and felt herself freeze as he got close to her. "I mean it, you look beautiful," he whispered in her ear. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. _Where's Lucy when you need her? She needs to see him like this._ Claire couldn't say anything so she just smiled at him, hoping that was all he needed to know the feeling was reciprocated.


	21. Closer

Ambrose couldn't have been more pleased with how the evening was working out. Just like he'd thought, the bar was not his thing. He would've hated it if Claire hadn't been there to distract him. Even then, he hated that he wasn't able to talk to her, to touch her. There were too many eyes around to see things. Heading back to the hotel to chill out for the rest of the night was much more appropriate. And there wouldn't be anyone around to keep watch. Just him and Claire, on their own. Just the way he liked it. _I've got to make it clear that I am not trying it on. I don't plan on sleeping with her tonight._

The cab pulled into the hotel and he reluctantly let his hand slip from hers. Even though most of the company would be out enjoying themselves or having an early night, there was the chance some people would be around in the lobby or hallway. He was more worried about someone they knew seeing them together than he was about strangers. He didn't want word getting around and jeopardising Claire's career. A second after they walked into the lobby, he noticed a girl appear beside him. "Hi Dean," she said in a thick Southern accent. He smiled and returned her greeting, barely looking at her. Claire had continued on towards the elevators, but this girl grabbed his arm. "Don't you remember me?" she asked, batting her eyelids. He looked at her; she had short, spikey blond hair, was wearing a short leather skirt and ripped tights, and a tight red singlet. Her nose was pierced, matching her ears. He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't," he replied, trying to walk around her. She pouted at him. "Oh, well, I'm sure I could make you remember," she said, twirling her hair around her finger. He looked at her, trying to hide his building frustration, and then over to Claire. She was standing at the doorway to the elevator lobby, watching this interaction. _I need to shake this girl, quickly._

"Look, what's your name?" he asked in a hurry. "It's Erika, with a k, but you should remember that," she whispered, stepping towards him. He pulled his arm back before she could touch it. "Don't you remember? We met in town and you brought me back here. We had a lot of fun together that night, Dean. A lot of fun," she emphasised. He didn't remember that at all. "I thought you may be up for it again tonight." Ambrose still didn't recognise her, but he recognised the look on her face. He'd seen it, and taken advantage of it, plenty of times. He didn't know if this girl was telling the truth about the last time he'd been in town; all the towns and all the girls had kind of rolled into one. _Except for one girl_. He had no chance of remembering if he'd taken this girl to his room all those months ago. But he sure as hell wasn't going to now. _She needs to get out of here, before Claire realises what is going on._ He felt increasingly embarrassed by this girl's presence. It was an unwanted reminder of the life he was trying to leave behind. Tangible proof to Claire that he was as bad as they told her he was. He gently put his hand on her shoulder and tried to lead her back towards the door. "Erika, look. I'm sure we did have fun last time around, but that's not me anymore. It was a one off, I'm afraid," he told her, trying to sound genuine and firm. She looked at him in disbelief. "You told me to find you next time you were in town. That's what you said." Erika looked upset. _Holy shit, Jon. You really were a sleaze._

"Is everything alright?" Ambrose jumped at the sound of Claire's voice. _Shit._ Erika turned to look her. "Who the hell is this?" she asked, a cold tone to her voice. She looked Claire up and down and turned back to him. "Who is this, Dean? Is this your new hired whore? Is this who you're taking back to your room tonight? Huh?" Ambrose tried to shush her while she spoke, turning her away from Claire. Hotel staff were beginning to look their way. He shot a quick look at Claire, who looked completely bewildered. Erika wouldn't be stopped. "Get your hands off me, you filthy liar!" She shook herself free from his arm and turned back to Claire. "You enjoy yourself tonight, slut. Because next time he comes back to town he'll have some other whore in his bed and he won't even remember your name!" _That's it,_ Ambrose thought. _She can say what she likes about me, I deserve it. But no one talks to Claire that way._ "Listen to me," he said aggressively. "That woman isn't coming back to my bed. She is a WWE employee and we have just returned from a publicity event. You need to get your facts straight before overreacting." Erika's face softened. She took a look at Claire, who was giving her an excellent death stare. _That's it, girl,_ he thought internally. He wanted to laugh but he needed to address the situation. "I think it's best you leave, Erika. You've made quite the scene, and neither of us could do with any further embarrassment." A member of hotel staff had made their way to them and offered to escort her out of the building. Ambrose nodded his thanks, and Erika was led out of the lobby. He sighed. He didn't want to turn back to look at Claire. _I've never been more embarrassed in my life. And that's saying something._

He walked over to Claire, and asked if she was alright. She nodded silently and they entered the elevator without speaking. _This is awkward._ "I'm so sorry," he managed to spit out. "I deserved every second of that, but you didn't." Ambrose hung his head; he felt so ashamed. To his surprise, Claire reached out and laced her fingers through his. She pulled herself close to him. "What you did before you met me is what you did before you met me." Ambrose felt a wave of warmth run through him. _Is she really forgiving me for that?_ "Or who, as the case may be," she continued, chuckling. He couldn't help but let out a laugh. _I can't believe she's still talking to me._ He turned to look at her. "That really didn't bother you?" Claire let out a laugh. "Well, I can't say that being called a slut and a whore was enjoyable, but she doesn't know me. I can't take that personally." Ambrose nodded. "You're on a completely different level from her. Not that I remember," he said, hanging his head. _I never thought it would come back to bite me this hard. You made your bed, son. Now you're f—king lying in it._ "Jon, look at me," Claire said, pulling on his arm. He turned to her. _She's so gorgeous_. "Everyone has a history. It's in the past. Leave it there." _Gorgeous and smart. What the hell is she doing here with me?_ "I can see you're different now. So can we drop it? We've got hockey to watch," she said, grinning at him. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, we can drop it." She squeezed his hand and he shook the whole thing from his mind.

They went to his room and the first thing Claire did was kick off her shoes. "Holy crap I hate those things," she mumbled, looking delighted to have them off. "Sorry to ruin the illusion of the sophisticated lady I tried out tonight. Wish I could've worn my running shoes," she laughed. Ambrose looked at her. Walking around in bare feet, in the designer dress, she looked even more appetising. She was more her now, more natural. He turned the TV on quickly, to distract his mind and remind Claire that he didn't have an ulterior motive. There was hockey on, and Claire settled in on the second bed, her legs tucked under her. Ambrose rang room service and they ordered food and chocolates. He settled in next to her on the bed, but a respectful distance away. Over the game, they discussed her chat with Carl, his media session and their plans for the morning. Claire got up and went to the bathroom, and when she settled back on the bed, he noticed she'd closed the distance between them. Their legs were now touching, and he asked himself what a gentleman would do. _I'm not sure, I don't know any…_

"You're doing a me," he heard her say." He screwed his nose up and looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked. She was lying back, propped up by pillows. She looked very comfortable. "You're overthinking. I don't know what about, but I can see those cogs turning, boy. Stop it." He chuckled softly and nodded his head. "Jon?" she asked, with a grin. "Yes?" he returned. He watched as some colour appeared in her cheeks and she tried hard to maintain his eye contact. "Can you please kiss me again?" _Woah. I was not expecting that._ Looking down at her, smiling and blushing, there was only ever going to be one answer to that. "Only because you said please," he laughed. He adjusted himself on the bed and leaned down, placing his lips on hers. This time he could feel she was prepared. Her soft lips welcomed his, moving slowly in time with him. He pulled away and looked down at her. She smiled up at him and brought her hand up to his neck. The warmth of her touch spread down his spine, and she pulled him back down to her. This time, their kiss was more heated. Their lips were moving quicker, their mouths opened further and their breathing became ragged. _Remember your promise_ , a thought flicked through his head quickly. But it faded as soon as he felt Claire's tongue slip into his mouth. A small moan rumbled in the back of his throat, and he brought his hand down to Claire's face, bringing her as close to him as possible. Their tongues moved around each other before they broke for breath. He rested his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes. Neither of them said anything, before he lowered his lips to hers once again.

They had repositioned themselves while they'd been kissing, and he was half lying on her chest as they made out like horny teenagers. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. The feel of her fingertips on his scalp sent electricity through him. He had one arm providing the leverage to lean down to her, and the other he was working very hard to keep in her hair or on her neck. He didn't want it to move any lower; he didn't trust himself. Already he could feel himself reacting to being his close to her. _I wonder if she's feeling the same_. His heart was racing, and he was fighting gallantly to remain composed. He knew if she wanted to, he wouldn't be able to resist, despite all the promises he'd made her, and himself. They continued kissing, and he felt her place a hand over his, and take it down to her side. He gulped. _Not below the hips, not below the hips_ he chanted to himself as he ran his hand up her side; along her ribcage, up and over her shoulder, and then the same in reverse. His hand passed over her hip and down the outside of her thigh. Her legs were soft and smooth, and he wondered how they'd feel wrapped around his waist. He felt the contours of her quad muscle as he brought his hand up along the top of her dress, and over the hips he'd marvelled from afar so often. He let his fingers draw up along the side of her boob as he brought his hand up to her face again, and felt her hips buck slightly. _Holy shit_ , he thought, pulling back from her. He bit his lip and inhaled deeply. _I can't handle this_ _much longer._

Claire looked up at him. He looked like she felt; flustered, hot and horny. He might be on a dry run by his standards, but she could guarantee it wasn't as long as hers. Not that it mattered to her before this moment. But now, every nerve in her body was on fire. He was breathing heavily and could see in his eyes he was holding himself back. She sighed. _I can't not tell him. It's not fair on either of us to get carried away._ "I've gotta tell you something," she said frankly. "I'm on my period." He dropped his head and chuckled. "That's the best news I've had in a long time," he laughed. "Oh yeah?" Claire asked, amused. He nodded. "Definitely. I was wondering if you were going to try and corrupt my innocence. If you think I give it up on the first night, Miss Harris, then I am ashamed of you!" They chuckled together and he rolled on to his side beside her. "But really, I needed an excuse to stop. Or I very easily could've broken my promise." Claire's brow furrowed. "What promise?" she asked. "The one I made you, and myself. To treat you differently." He reached for her hand. "If, and that's if, not when, this happens between us, I don't want it to be in a hotel room. That would put you on the same level as the rest of them, as that skank from the lobby, and you are so not on her level. It's going to be different. It's going to mean something." Claire felt her chest swell. She leaned up and kissed him. "Well, isn't that sweet?" she said in a mocking tone. "You're lucky about the period scenario or I'd probably have ruined that." He let out a full bellied laugh. "Yeah, I actually think you're right there."

Claire cuddled up into his chest and they watched the final minutes of the hockey. She felt his hand come to rest on the curve of her hip, and she let her hand fall onto him. She'd felt the muscles of his back and arms as hands had roamed around his upper body while they were kissing, and now she could feel his defined chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. _Do you even remember what you were so concerned about?_ she asked herself. In this moment, she felt safe, happy, desired and content. How could she have ever fought against this? _This is right. He was right._

When Claire opened her eyes, she heard Adam Sandler's voice. She blinked a few times as her eyes focused on the television. She recognized the scene, towards the end of _Happy Gilmore_. "Hey there, sleeping beauty," she heard Ambrose say. She turned her head up to face him. He grinned down at her softly. "You dozed off there for a while." Claire felt so embarrassed. _Way to kill the mood._ "Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she said profusely. He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It was pretty cute from this perspective," he said, running his fingers through her hair. Claire leaned up to check the time. "Holy shit, it's 2am!" Ambrose nodded. "I didn't want to wake you, for your own benefit and mine," he laughed. "I better get going," she said reluctantly. "Lucy will be wondering where I am, and she'll be able to put two and two together…" He nodded. "Yeah, that's probably best." Claire got up off the bed, remembering she was in Eden's dress, and tried to rub the creases out of it. Ambrose got up and made his way towards the door. "See you in the morning?" he asked as she came towards her. She slid her hands around his waist and pulled herself into his chest. "Sure," she replied as she stood up on her toes and kissed him. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her against him. They kissed softly, and Claire had to calm herself. She pulled away from him, and said goodnight. "Goodnight, sleep well," Ambrose said as he opened the door for her. "Bye," Claire said, not moving. Ambrose smirked. "Bye," he said. Claire looked at him, and quickly jumped forward to place a kiss on his lips. He laughed. "Get out or I'll make you stay here!" he chuckled. She waved at him as she walked down the hall, and as she rode the elevator to her floor, she sighed. She was definitely off that cliff now. There was no going back.

She entered her room quietly so not to wake Lucy. This was the latest she'd been out since they'd roomed together, and she was starting to think of excuses for where she'd been. Lucy wasn't stupid. She'd have known Claire and Ambrose had left the bar together, even if it had taken an hour or so for her to realise. Claire tiptoed into the bathroom to take her makeup off, and peered around the corner to see if the light was hitting Lucy's bed. But Lucy wasn't there. _Wow, must've be quite the party if they're still going._ Claire's first thought was that she could've spent longer with Ambrose. But as she got into bed, she knew she'd be thankful for it in the morning. Tomorrow was going to be a big day; she had a lot to do, and she wanted to nail the spots to prove to Zane, Carl and herself that she was up to it. _Time to step up to the plate._


	22. Proving it

The alarm pierced Claire's sleep at 6.55am. She rolled over to turn it off and noted the bed next to hers was still empty. _Must've been a very good night_ , Claire thought, starting to think of lines to text Lucy about her whereabouts and nocturnal activity. At least she could hold the moral high ground next time Lucy gave her crap about Ambrose.

She felt remarkably fresh for having gone to bed at 2.30am. _Technically, you'd already had half a night's sleep_ , she told herself. Plus she was still on a high from the evening with Ambrose. She hoped that would get her through the long day ahead. She headed down to the pool, keeping an eye out for Lucy heading through the lobby. She'd love to catch her in the final stages of her walk of shame. After a solid 45 mins of laps, she headed back upstairs.

As Claire finished up in the bathroom, she heard the hotel room door open. "Claire?" she heard Lucy's voice ask. "I've just finished having a shower. I imagine you'll need one too?" She made sure her tone was mocking and inquisitive. "Don't start," she heard Lucy reply, coupled with the sound of her collapsing on the bed. Claire walked into the room towelling off her hair. "Are you going to volunteer the information or am I going to have to resort to water boarding?" Lucy shot her a look. "You're going to have to tell me what you and Ambrose got up to first," she said with a pout. "Don't think I didn't work it out. And everyone else too. Your desire to keep it on the downlow is out the window now." That baffled Claire. "What? How come? What did you say?" Lucy raised her hands in innocence. "Hey, I didn't say a word. But when everybody noticed that you'd left, and he'd left, it didn't take much to work it out. Plus, I knew, Eden and Cody knew, Roman knew, so the majority of us figured it out." _Wait, what?_ "Roman knows?" Claire asked. Lucy nodded. "After we worked out you'd both left, Cody mentioned something then we all started talking. Apparently Roman caught Ambrose checking you out and he pulled him up on it. Said he's never seen him be so patient! But I guess that's over now, isn't it?" Claire tried to process the implications of the fact that more people knew about her interactions with Ambrose, the man they knew as the Master.

"So tell me, what's it like to have your titties mastered?" Lucy asked with a mischievous grin. Claire shook her head. "I wouldn't know." Lucy's eyes narrowed. "You want me to believe that you guys took off together and nothing happened? Unlikely." Claire nodded. "There was no mastering," she implored. "We both decided the bar wasn't our scene, we caught a cab back here, got room service and watched hockey." Lucy looked dubious. "And then?" Claire remained silent for a moment, before replying. "And then there was a bit of kissing, but I actually fell asleep so nothing went any further." It was as good as true. Lucy looked confused. "I don't believe you. He probably felt you up while you were sleeping." That pissed Claire off. "He might've had a string of ladies in the past but that doesn't make him a creep or a predator. Don't be so mean." Lucy shook her head. "He's got you now, doesn't he? You're hooked in. You're going to become one of those discarded ladies." Claire tried to quell the fury rising her stomach. "Why don't you believe me? Jon's trying hard to change, and I see it. He has been nothing but lovely and chivalrous to me. Why can't you give him a chance?" She paused, then added "If you won't believe me, then believe Roman. He told you himself that he's never seen Jon this way." Lucy had her eyebrows raised. "So we're calling him Jon now?" Claire shot her a look. "That is his name, yes. I'm not spending time with Dean Ambrose."

A few moments of silence passed. Claire was trying to calm herself down. "Anyway, at least I slept in my own bed last night. How did this turn into a persecution of my night? Where did you end up huh? With one of those snotty nosed investment bankers, or maybe one of the part time male models?" Lucy's demeanor became decidedly sheepish. Claire sighed. "Tell me you were at least careful." "Yes, yes. That was taken care of," Lucy snapped. Claire tried to read her coy expression. "Wait, you didn't... Those who live in glass houses, Luce. Jesus." Lucy shook her head. "Oh no. It wasn't anyone on the roster. I'm not like you, you groupie." Claire rolled her eyes. _She's never going to accept that Jon is different now_. She took herself into the bathroom to do her hair trying to piece together where Lucy had been all night. She was glad it wasn't Dolph. _Hang on_ , she thought to herself. _It wasn't anyone on the roster..._

"Carl? Are you kidding me?" Claire shouted as she hurried back into the room. Lucy's face told her all she needed to know. "What the hell?" Lucy shrugged. Claire's mouth was still open. She was shocked at the revelation that her colleagues sleeping together, and shocked that this may mean Lucy sided with Carl in the growing tensions. "What happened? How did that even become a possibility?" She forgot all about her hair. She sunk into the uncomfortable hotel seat, exasperated _. I didn't see that one coming_. Lucy sat up on the bed. "It just did. He was upset, and lonely, and I felt sorry for him," she said casually. There was a tone to her voice that got Claire thinking. "So you just spent the night with him; not thinking about how that could ruin your working relationship with him?" Lucy shrugged again and Claire saw it all fall into place. "That's not the first time, is it?" Lucy shook her head. Claire felt her eyes widen and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh come on, it's hard out here... You're on your own all the time, it's hard to meet guys and get into something serious. Carl and I have an arrangement." Claire rolled her eyes. "Does anyone else know about this arrangement? Like Zane?" Lucy looked at her. "Nobody else needs to know." _I'll remember that one_ , Claire thought. Suddenly she realized why they'd been so slack working on the same rotation. _They were probably banging in a broom cupboard during the shows._

"You do realise that this completely invalidates your comments about Jon, right?" Claire questioned. "At least I'm not f**k buddies with my colleague." Lucy shook her head. "That's completely different. I know what I've got myself into. You, you're ignoring warning bells about a player with a proven history." Claire found she was chewing on her lip. She had a proposition. "Here's the deal. I will not judge, and neither will you. We're both big girls who can handle our own shit." Lucy nodded. "Deal. I've managed to survive this long." "How long, exactly? Claire asked. Lucy bowed her head, thinking. "Probably almost six months." _Woah. They're much better at hiding it than I am, evidently._ "That's impressive," Claire admitted. Lucy, now readying herself for a shower, replied "that's because there's no feelings involved. You, you're letting yourself get wooed like every girl before you, and it's all over your face. You're not even trying to hide it now." She shut the bathroom door and Claire slouched in the chair. She felt like she'd been blindsided.

Claire caught a cab to the venue with Zane early as they discussed last minute changes. She needed to get around all the talent before the show started to get their match rundown and which segment their big spots would be in. Zane had also asked her to do a regular workload, so she'd be covering Stardust, Brie Bella and the tag title match. She was glad she'd drawn up a spreadsheet yesterday to help her plot her thoughts. "Tell me," Zane asked, "did you get any attitude from Carl after the meeting?" Claire knew she needed to choose her words carefully. "Not really. I tried to talk to him, generally, but he said he was just frustrated and needed some time to himself," she answered. Zane nodded sternly. "He'll get over it. Besides, I offloaded my VIP duty to him tonight so he'll be busy enough." Claire was dreading seeing Carl. He would still be angry with her and angrier still if he knew she'd found out about him and Lucy, she imagined.

Claire familiarised herself with the layout of the venue, where the various dressing rooms were and scoped out where she could do her three pre-shoots. As the roster rolled in, she met as many as she could for final walk throughs and made notes. Including Ambrose v Owens, where she was sure to conduct herself with the upmost professionalism. She'd text Jon earlier to remind him that it was all business tonight; that Zane and Carl would be watching and she needed to nail it. He was on his best behaviour during the walk through; although Claire caught his eye once, he turned away with only a quick wink in recognition. She was thankful he was taking it seriously.

The evening flew by. Claire ran herself ragged but did everything on her schedule. Only once did she find herself struggling to decide on a caption, but even then she managed something better than some of Lucy's work for the evening. Towards the end of the show, as she was walking swiftly to her next spot, she got a text from Jon.  
 _Have you eaten at all today? I've saved you some catering._  
She was starving, now that he mentioned it.  
 _\- Ravishing. Thanks. Your locker room after main event?_

After the show she went to Jon's locker room, where she was surprised to find Roman. "Hey Claire, nice work tonight. You were everywhere," he said. Claire smiled uncomfortably. "Thanks," she replied. She wasn't sure how to act now that she knew he knew something was up between her and Jon. Sensing this, Jon said "It's okay. He knows." Claire jokingly narrowed her eyes. "But what do you know?" she asked Roman with fake suspicion. He chuckled. "That you've got my boy here all in a twist." Ambrose threw a towel at him, but looked at Claire and shrugged. Roman continued. "I've been on the road with him for years and I've never seen him so mesmerised. I'm surprised he's not dislocated his jaw, the amount of time it spends on the floor." He laughed and Claire felt herself blush. Jon handed her a plate of food. "It might not be warm anymore, but you gotta eat something." Claire smiled. She'd not had time to think about food herself, so she was surprised Jon had thought of it for her. As she ate, the boys chatted and discussed the road trip to RAW the next day. Roman asked Claire if she was going to ride with them. "I can't," she said reluctantly. "We use our bus trips for debriefs." _Plus I've got to watch myself. I can't afford to slip up or Carl would be all over it._

Claire took a cab with Lucy back to the hotel. She'd noticed the crowds waiting for the roster on the way out. She kept an eye out for the girl from the hotel lobby but didn't recognise her. _Although there are plenty in her place,_ she thought. So many girls, at least ten years her junior, lining up for a chance encounter with a superstar. _I wonder how the boys feel to know that these girls would take any of them, just whoever makes themselves available._ Once the girls arrived back at the hotel, Lucy got changed and headed out. "Where are you off to?" Claire asked inquisitively. Lucy shrugged and did her best not to answer the question. "Oh," Claire sighed. _She's heading out with Carl._ "Go. Have fun. And tell him I'm not an ogre trying to get him fired." Lucy scoffed. "Oh shut up, he doesn't think that," she said walking out the door.

An hour later, there was a knock at her door. She'd text Jon to let him know Lucy was going to be out for the night and he should swing by before he went back to his room. They kissed tenderly and he picked her up off the floor. "You don't know what it took to keep my eyes off you back there," he said. _Same,_ thought Clare. They sat on the bed and he slung his arm around her shoulders. She sighed in content, and linked her fingers through his. _We're just hanging out watching TV, and I'm insanely happy about it._ She felt Jon's eyes on her, and turned to face him. He smiled at her, and she leaned up to kiss him. He brushed her hair out of her eyes gently. "Come to Vegas with me this week" he whispered. Claire felt her heart skip. _He wants me to go to his house. This is big._ "I can't," she said, hanging her head. "It's my Dad's birthday on Thursday and I'm heading to Wexford." He chuckled. "Damn. Here I was thinking that was really smooth." Claire smirked. "Next week?" she asked hopefully. She watched as a cheeky grin grew on his face and shone through his eyes. "I'll have to clear my schedule." She shoved him playfully, and he retaliated by wrapping her up in his arms and capturing her mouth with his. He stayed with her until close to 1am, before he kissed her goodnight and went to his room. As she climbed into bed, her mind was racing. _He wants me to go to Vegas. He wants me to spend our 'weekend' together. He wants me in a place that's not a hotel…._


	23. Confrontation

Claire was surprised Lucy sat next to her on their bus trip, while Carl sat on his own three rows behind. "We're not dating," Lucy whispered to her. "I don't want to be around him 24/7. You didn't think anything of us before, so don't go overstating it now." Claire shot a quick look at Carl. He sure looked like someone who needed some company. "Stop it, he'll survive," Lucy said. Claire had to ask. "Has he said anything about me?" Lucy shook her head. "Not really. Just said he was pissed at the situation. And Zee. He reckons after being here so long he was owed more, at least a discussion that his standards were slipping." _Or he was getting distracted_. "So what do you think?" Claire asked. Lucy sucked in her bottom lip before replying. "Part of me is annoyed that you're getting all these opportunities when you've only been here a few months. But then I look at how much extra work you do, how much you care, and I get it. I don't want to spend my day off looking through hash tags, so I don't deserve to spot the schedule. I just don't care that much, and neither does Carl. I wonder if you'll stop caring that much once you've been at it as long as we have." Claire pondered that. She hoped not. Social media is a full time job; people don't stop tweeting because you're off the clock. _Especially in a company like this_. "Don't forget," she rebutted, "that I did almost two years at HQ. It might not have been on the road, but I earned my stripes." Lucy smiled and patted her leg gently. "I know," she said. "Totally Team Claire right here. Carl will get over it. He's just got a bruised ego."

Zane addressed the group for almost an hour, commending them on the excellent engagement responses from last night. Without mentioning Claire's name, he mentioned that the spots were 'expertly captured' and 'widely shared'. He then moved on to RAW allocations, and Claire was assigned Becky Lynch, Alberto Del Rio and Roman. Lucy was assigned Dean Ambrose. Lucy's grin was wide and eyes mischievous. "Please be on your best behaviour, remember our deal," Claire pleaded with her. Lucy smiled angelically and said nothing. _Oh god_.

Jon was at the venue waiting to hear from Claire. He and Roman had arrived an hour or so ago and got stuck into catering. He had a Make A Wish kid to meet with shortly and wondered if Claire was covering it. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. He called for the guest to enter, but it wasn't Claire. "Oh, hey Lucy. What's up?" She smiled and said she was assigned to cover him tonight. He nodded his head and tried to hide his slight disappointment. "I know, I'd prefer it if you had Claire too. Nothing against you of course, but I know that's what she'd want, too." _Girl has a nerve, he thought._ "We can't all be winners. Looks like you drew the short straw," he replied. He threw on his merchandise shirt and asked her what the plan was. Lucy closed the door behind her and sat down. "You tell me, Titty Master. What is the plan?" _Is she coming on to me? What the hell?_ "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, turning away from her. "I am not stupid, Jon," she said sarcastically. "Claire is falling for you. Despite her intelligence and my warnings, she's over the edge now. So, I want to know what game you're playing. She's not listening to me but I want to know in advance so I can still be there for her when you throw her out and move on." The tone in her voice was dark, and she had a look to match. He couldn't believe she had the balls to say this to him. She didn't know anything about him, who he was trying to be now. _Keep your cool. Claire won't want you ruining her friendship._ "I've been an asshole in the past. I get it. You know that, and I know that," he started, hoping honesty and acknowledgement would win her over. "But that was then. I never wanted to know their names; I never got to know them. Those girls all served a purpose. Consensually, by the way. And you can run me down all you like for that, because I can't hide from it. But what you need to realise, and what I'm trying to prove to Claire, is that I'm not that guy anymore." _There. Take that._ Jon felt like he'd made his point. Besides, it's Claire's opinion he cared about, not Lucy's.

"Righto then," Lucy started. "So I'm meant to forget the last three years of seeing you bring a different girl back to the hotel every night, seeing you make out with multiple girls and accept numbers from women wearing next to nothing? We may not have hung out together before now but don't think we didn't see it," Lucy stated. Jon could feel the frustration boiling in his stomach. "Yeah, ideally. But I know you won't. I appreciate what you're doing here, Lucy. You're looking out for your friend. I get it. And I appreciate that, because I care about Claire. But believe me, she's not going to need your sympathy. I have every intention of treating her well." He paused. "If anything, it'll be her leaving me behind." He'd not said that to anyone, not even Claire. But truth was, he still felt like any moment Claire would snap out of it and realise she'd made a mistake.

Lucy laughed. "Why am I meant to believe you?" she asked. "Why should I, and why should Claire, believe that she's the one to change your ways? That's she's the good girl who will tame the bad boy?' Jon knew the answer to that but didn't know how to vocalize it. "Well?" Lucy asked while he tried to find the words. "Because I'm not buying any of it." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. _Shit I suck at this stuff._ "In the past, I've only cared about me. I wake up, I do what I need to do to make myself better, I wrestle in front of people cheering my name, I go out and have some fun, I bang a girl, and the next day I do it all over again. It's never mattered what anyone else thinks of me. But now it does." _Is that enough?_ He'd had enough trouble voicing his feelings to Claire, let alone someone who wanted to lynch him. Lucy shook her head. "But why? You're surrounded by beautiful women every day. Why do you want a girl who lives above some old lady's garage?" He sighed. "That's exactly it. I've been through some shit in my life, Lucy. Most of it self-induced, sure. But this world I live in, this isn't real. Claire's real. She has her feet on the ground and has reminded me of what's real, what's important. She's not interested in how much money I have or getting herself on television. She's got a life of her own that she's quite successful in, and she doesn't need me or anyone to validate her. She's made me into a better person, even if she doesn't realise that." Lucy stared at him; he could see the doubt in her eyes, and he didn't blame her. _That was straight out of a lame boyband ballad_. "And believe me, no one was more surprised by this than me. I thought I was happy, I thought I had shit all figured out. Then she showed up and flipped everything ass up. She's got me doing and saying things I've not done before." He thought about that for a second, before adding, "And that's my most compelling evidence. You think I'm a player who is just after another notch on the bed post, but it's been weeks now and nothing's happened between us. And I'm okay with that. That's why it's different. Because I care about _her_ , not just her pussy." He felt himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Are we done now? We have work to do," he asked angrily. Lucy smirked. "Yeah, we're done. For now."

As they made their way to the meet and greet room, Jon wondered if Lucy would mention any of this to Claire. _Maybe she put her up to it?_ "I hope you know," Lucy said, breaking his thoughts, "that it's not just Claire you need to win over. You're going to have to prove your undying love to the rest of us if you want us to be convinced." He closed his eyes tight. Matters of the heart were not his forte, and she was pressing the issue. He was beginning to lose his cool. "Anyone can say the words," Lucy continued, "but if you're serious, your actions will prove what you're ..." "Did you ever think it's something I'm only comfortable showing Claire?" he said firmly, cutting her off. Lucy seemed surprised by his interruption. "These emotions, having my thoughts and feelings so out of my own control, this is all new to me. Getting it out to one person is hard enough, so forgive me if I'm working on wooing her and not all of her judgmental friends." He thought he noticed Lucy's face soften slightly. "At the end of the day, what Claire thinks is all I care about. That should be the same for you. If you won't believe me, you should ask her opinion." He opened the door to the Meet and Greet room with such force it banged against the wall. Holding it open, he gestured Lucy to enter first. "A little bit of chivalry for you," he said, glaring at her.

 _How the hell am I meant to chat with a sick kid now that I'm all fired up?_ he thought. _Jesus Claire, what are you doing to me?_


	24. Branded

RAW moved quickly for Claire. Roman was involved in the opening segment, a backstage interview and the main event, and somewhere in between she had found time for Becky and Del Rio. As she and Roman worked on some post-shots after the show had gone off the air, she was desperate to pick his brain. She wanted to know if what he'd said last night about Jon and his behaviour was true or just friendly banter. But she didn't want to cross a line. Firstly, she was here to work, and even though her no relationships rule was looking flimsy, she still considered herself professional. _There will be no pining on work time_ , she told herself. And secondly, she didn't want to take advantage of Jon's confidence in Roman. She didn't think they'd have sat down and had a big heart to heart about it, but any conversation they had had deserved to stay between them. She thought of how bad she'd feel if someone came to her and asked her questions about Lucy and Carl. It wasn't her place to discuss whatever their relationship was, and likewise, it wasn't Roman's to be giving her insight into Jon's feelings.

But Roman obviously didn't feel the same. While they were working on some photos of him acting bruised and beaten, he turned to her. "I know you've probably heard all sorts of stories about Mox, but he's a good guy." Claire smiled gently. "Yeah, I can see that," she replied. "But I get the feeling he doesn't want too many people to know. Dean Ambrose has got a reputation to uphold." Roman chuckled. "Ha, yeah. But to those who know him, he's a loyal, fun friend. Sure, he is a bit rough around the edges and he's let himself loose in the past, but he's not a bad guy. He's just not had the chance to prove it to a female. Or himself." Claire nodded. She wanted to ask so many questions of him, but even more, wanted to play it cool. She didn't want to come across as totally obsessed with Jon, even though he invaded her thoughts at all times of the day. As they walked back to the locker rooms, Roman added "He might not be a Romeo, but I think you've managed to scratch the surface. He's really into you, and I think that's great." Claire could feel herself blushing. It was good to hear; _that's two people who know Jon that are convinced he's trying, and just Lucy who is not having any of it._ The odds were leaning in her favor.

The usual group headed out after the show, including Carl. To Claire's surprise, he seemed a little more relaxed and approachable. He even spoke to her. Things hadn't thawed entirely, but it was a start, Claire thought, and she decided to leave it up to him to decide when things could get back to normal. Lucy had picked the location tonight and the group didn't argue. The bar had a cosy atmosphere ; a few standing tables, some tacky Elvis, James Dean and Marilyn Munroe pictures on the wall, and a low buzz of 1980s music. There were only a handful of others there which wasn't a surprise late on a cold Monday night; it clearly wasn't the hippest place in town. Claire was glad to be there; she felt like a good glass of wine. It had been quite the weekend, and after a busy show, she wanted to relax and enjoy some downtime with her friends. She'd not had much of a chance to talk to Jon today, but he'd taken the seat next to her at their table. She inhaled his scent; he smelled fresh and clean after the show. "How was your night?" he asked her with a smile. "Frantic," she replied. "Can't wait for a drink." He put his hand on her leg under the table and she felt the buzz rush through her body. "My shout," he said, echoing that to the rest of the group. "My shout for starters. Who wants what?"

They were on to their second round of drinks before Lucy spoke up. "So, I wanted to let you guys know about a little tradition we have on the staff." Claire sipped at her drink. She didn't know where Lucy was going with this; no traditions jumped into her mind. _Maybe she's starting a new one tonight._ "We have a long standing ritual of welcoming people into the team through a tried and tested initiation process. Some of you may remember Claire's outstanding performance as Cher a couple of months ago." Claire felt a few eyes on her, and Eden whooped and cheered. She felt Jon's knee nudge hers under the table, and when she looked sideways at him, he had an amused grin on her face. "Yeah, yeah," Claire said, trying to move the conversation on. "So," Lucy said, "now that we've all got to know each other a little better, I was thinking it was time you all got initiated into the cool kids' table." There was plenty of laughter, and Claire scoffed internally. _Good luck, Luce._ She didn't think for a moment any of the guys would be getting up. Maybe Eden would, if she had enough to drink. But these staunch men? No chance. "So who is up first?" Lucy asked optimistically. Claire searched around the table. There was a lot of head shaking. "Oh come on, it's over in three minutes!" she encouraged. "Don't make me choose someone…." Claire's eyes narrowed. _Oh no. No no no._ Suddenly it all made sense, where Lucy was going with this. She wanted Jon to sing. She could read it all over her face. _Why does she want to make this as uncomfortable as possible for us both? Jesus._

As Lucy was canvassing her options of who she would nominate to sing, Claire noticed Jon half-raise his hand. "I'll do it," he said. _What?_ Claire's head snapped towards him, as did the eyes of everyone in their group. She heard Lucy cheer, soon joined by Eden and Dolph. "Really?" she asked. Jon turned to her. "Yeah, why the hell not? I want to sit at the cool kids' table," he answered. Claire watched, baffled, as he finished his drink and rose from his chair. She glanced at Lucy, who looked utterly thrilled, and then caught Eden's gaze. _What the hell?_ Claire tried to portray. Eden shrugged and looked excited. Cody leaned into the table and said "I've heard him sing before. We should probably warn the patrons." The group laughed and watched as Jon asked the barman to set up the karaoke machine which was hiding in the corner. Within a few minutes, he was standing up on stage, drink in one hand, microphone in the other. "Hello, Birmingham!" he said with faux enthusiasm. "My name is Jon, and tonight, I'm going to be Billy Joel."

Claire shook her head as he started to bounce in time to the music. Or, more accurately, what he thought was in time to the music. _He'd never make a dancer_ , she thought to herself. A few cheers and whistles came from the table. With a big breath, Jon launched into the lyrics. Cody was right; he couldn't hold a tune. But then again, Claire couldn't talk. His gruff, toneless voice spread across the bar. Claire had a hand over her mouth to hide her giggling. _He's crazy_ , she thought, taking him in. He had a knit hat pulled low, was wearing a long sleeved jersey and jeans; holding the beer in one hand, lucky not to spill any as he haphazardly swung his body back and forth. It was adorably awful. He caught Claire's eye and stood completely still while he sang the beginning of the chorus directly to her. "You may be right, I may be crazy…. But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for." Claire felt the air escape her lungs. She swallowed her smile and looked down at the table to regather her composure, then looked up at him again. He was singing with a smug smirk on his face. _Damn you, Moxley._ She took a sip of her wine and noticed Lucy looking at her. She couldn't quite read the expression on her face, but it was more than a passing glance. She filed it away in her mind to chase up with her later.

After suffering through the rest of the song, Jon was met with a loud applause from his tiny audience. He returned to sit next to Claire, giving her a long look. "Nice one Billy," she said to him. He winked her and Claire sighed. _Everyone has to know now, if they don't already._ Lucy began to coerce Eden into singing, who said she would only do a duet with Cody. He shook his head adamantly, but with encouragement from the group and a tug on his hand from his wife, they got up and sang a Grease duet together. Lucy had no other takers for the evening, and with more alcohol in her system to fuel her confidence, told the others in jest that they were no longer welcome at the cool kids' table.

The group walked back to the hotel and caught the elevators to their respective floors. Claire and Lucy said goodnight to Jon as they got out a floor below him. He shot Claire a sad smile as the doors close, and the girls walked down the hallway. "Well, that was unexpected," Lucy said as they entered the room. "Was it?" Claire asked. "Seems to me you were baiting him." Lucy pretended to gasp. "Never. I was totally angling for Eden. Her and Cody were cute." Claire rolled her eyes. "So, does Jon being initiated mean you're going to let up on him now?" Lucy shrugged. "Well, at least he didn't go backwards in my estimation tonight." _There's hardly a point in trying,_ Claire thought as she headed to bed.

The following day, the staff travelled on a bus for the Smackdown taping, and Zane was raving about the success of the Snapchat tactics used for RAW. Claire wasn't listening. She'd got a text message from Jon.  
 _Feel like I've hardly seen you. Got time after the show?  
\- Only if it's in a cab. Flight is two hours after knock off.  
I can make that work. But can you swing by my locker room to get me? I'll need to kiss you tonight if I'm not going to see you until Monday.  
_She felt a smile creep on to her face.  
 _\- I'll see what I can do._

Following the show, where she had been busy covering the Authority and their interaction in most of the storylines for the evening, Claire hunted Jon down in his locker room. He closed the door behind her and wrapped her up in a hug. She put her arms around his waist and pulled herself into his chest. He held her against him for a long moment, before pulling back and kissing her gently. "That's better," he said, taking her hand. "Come here, I've got something for you." He dug around and presented Claire with a bag. She raised her eyebrows, and pulled out the contents. Two Dean Ambrose merchandise items came out; a large Ambrose Asylum shirt, and a black DA hoodie. Claire smiled and let out a laugh. "I can't wear these," she said. He frowned. "I'm a professional. I'm meant to be impartial. It wouldn't be fair and equitable." He leaned down and kissed her; hard and full of intent. "Was that fair and equitable? Screw equity." He pulled her face up to his and they kissed again, this time with more passion. Claire's stomach flipped and she let one hand run down his back and come to rest on his belt. Jon's tongue flicked over hers and she wrapped her other hand around him, closing the distance between them. She noticed the intake of breath through his nose and felt a hand caress her neck. He pulled away slightly. "This is for you to wear while you're at home. If I can't be with you, at least I'll be on you." They giggled and Claire felt her cheeks flush. He put his hands on her face gently. "How am I supposed to let you go when you look like that?" Claire didn't know what to say, so she shook her head and looked towards her feet. "None of that," he said, tipping her chin upwards, kissing her again. "Will you make me a promise?" he asked when they broke off again. She let out a sole laugh. "Yes, yes, I'll wear the merch Jon, I promise," she answered. He looked into her eyes and Claire realised that must not be what he meant. "Not that," he started. "Promise me you'll come to Vegas next week." Even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no. His warm arms around her, the colour of his eyes, the smell of him; it was all invading her brain and it only left one possible answer. "I promise."


	25. Anticipation

Claire was pleased to see her family in Wexford. Wednesday night they went out for a birthday dinner to her Dad's favourite restaurant, joined by her brother and his family. Thursday she and her mother went shopping; Claire wanted to buy some new clothes if she was heading to Vegas next week. _Is it presumptuous of me to buy some sexy lingerie?_ she pondered. _Maybe. Maybe not._ But it certainly would cause some questions from her mother. Even though she'd had been asked in depth about her job over dinner, her mom wanted to know more. She asked about her friends, how she filled her downtime and how healthy she was eating. Typical mom stuff. "Any nice men?" her mom asked with a grin. Some people might be embarrassed talking about this with their mom, but Claire wasn't. They were close. "There's one guy, Jon. He's very sweet but we're on opposite rotations so we don't see each other often. It's nothing serious just yet, Mama. We're just hanging out." Her mom smiled. "Well, just remember to be careful with your heart. Anyone you give it to needs to be worth it." Claire smiled. "I will," she replied, even though her heart had a will of its own these days. 

Jon had just finished his dinner and was watching TV when his phone beeped. It was a selfie from Claire. He opened the picture; she was sitting on a bed, her hair was down, and she was wearing the T-shirt he'd given her on Tuesday night.  
 _It's a bit big! Goodnight Jonny, I'll be sleeping with Dean Ambrose tonight. ;)_  
A small noise built in his throat. He zoomed in on the picture, rolling over her hair, her eyes and her smile. He wished he could be there. She looked happy, relaxed and cute. She was right; the shirt was far too big for her. You couldn't make out the shape of anything past her shoulders. He'd never had to select clothes for a woman before so he had no idea. He did pick up a women's hoodie though, so hopefully that was a better fit.  
 _\- Looks cozy. Sleep well Miss Harris._ _: )_

No one had ever called him Jonny. A few guys had tried sarcastically when picking a fight, but it never lasted long. But coming from Claire, it felt warm and familiar. He opened the photo and imagined hearing her say it. Maybe they'd be curled up together on the bed, like they had been Saturday night, and she'd turn to him, her blue eyes soft and say "Kiss me Jonny". Or maybe as he was kissing her neck, she'd whisper it into his ear. Either way, he knew when he heard it from her, it would drive him crazy.

He took another look at the photo. _If she's heading to bed, she's probably not wearing anything under there._ The shirt was too baggy to reveal the shape of her chest, but he knew it by heart. He may not have touched them, but he'd spent quite a while looking at her breasts. Particularly after she fell asleep Saturday night, in Eden's tight dress. They had looked fantastic, and for a moment he had lost himself in their rhythmical rise and fall as she breathed. He'd watched them bounce as she ran alongside him over the weekend. And of course he'd noticed them in her bikini in the hot tub, and the way her nipples hardened. He wanted to touch them, to kiss and suck them so badly, but even more, he wanted to respect her.

This is what baffled him the most about the way he felt for her. The first time he saw her, he didn't think anything of her. She wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life, nor the worst , and he'd hardly taken a second look at her. But as he got to know her, he'd noticed her eyes, her ass, her boobs, her hips, her legs, and had taken a second, and third, and fourth, look. Now he couldn't believe how he didn't notice it initially. He wanted to touch her, everywhere. The more time that passed, the more desperately he wanted to. He marvelled at the strength of his conviction; he didn't want to do anything to upset Claire, that's why he asked her when he first wanted to kiss her. And despite the way she turned him on, he was able to dismiss his own desires. In fact, he wanted to. That was the bit that scared him. He wasn't doing it as a dare or to prove himself as a challenge, he legitimately wanted to treat her like a lady. He wanted to deserve to know her intimately, both physically and emotionally. And to make it clear, to them both, that this meant more to him than any of the girls he'd used to get off. That was a new feeling.

He looked at her picture again. You couldn't see past her waist but his mind went there anyway. Maybe she was wearing those Goofy pajama pants. Or maybe some little lacy pajama shorts. Perhaps the shirt was big enough to be a nightie and she was just wearing panties underneath it. _What if she's wearing nothing at all?_ He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her; what she'd look like, how she'd taste. His hand found his way into his pants as he mentally undressed her. _Jesus woman,_ he thought. _I might be a gentleman around you, but you've sure got me jerking off like a teenager._ He pictured himself letting his fingers run all over her body; over her nipples, down her stomach, down her thighs and between her legs. He imagined Claire's hand wrapped around him, her tongue flicking across the top of him. As he increased his pace he envisioned Claire on top of him, her boobs bouncing in time with her movement. He could feel the tension building inside him and as he felt himself let go, he groaned audibly. Once his heart rate slowed, he found himself wondering: _If it feels that good in my mind, how good is it going to feel when she's here?_

 _And this time next week, she will be._


	26. Tensions

Claire met Lucy at the airport as arranged and the girls chatted about their days off in a cab to their hotel. Claire was tired and let Lucy do most of the talking at the check in desk. The attendant handed over the key cards along with an envelope. "And here's your FMP voucher for this afternoon. Enjoy, ladies." Claire looked sideways at Lucy, who was focusing on the attendant. "Our what?" she asked, almost rudely. "FMP. Facial, manicure, pedicure. You're both booked in at 12.30." A slow smile snuck on to Claire's face. Lucy, still frowning, turned to her. "Did you do this?" Claire shook her head. "Hell no. I couldn't afford one for just me, let alone us both." She saw the cogs turning in Lucy's head as the pieces came together. "I'll tell you what," Lucy grunted, "you might be able to be bought, but I can't."

"Oh come on," Claire urged as they found their room. "He's just trying to do something nice for us." Lucy screwed her nose up. Claire smirked. "If you don't want the second session then I'll change it to a massage and have myself a great time." She watched Lucy stew on it, then say "Well my cuticles could use a little work. But don't think I'm going to be Ambrose's number one fan after this. He's got a long way to go." _Of course. He could build a life size golden statue of you and you'd still hate him._ "I think you'll at least owe him a thank you," she replied. Lucy rolled her eyes and went to change he outfit.

Claire got out her phone and sent Jon a text.  
 _You're too good to me. Thanks for our little treat. Although I'm not sure Lucy deserves it…._  
 _\- It's not about her, it's about you. I thought it would be nice for you to do something girly. Bonding and all that._  
 _Very kind of you. But I feel bad that I can't reciprocate.  
\- Don't. I enjoy doing it._  
Claire sighed. She wasn't used to taking handouts. She might not have a lot, but everything she did have, she'd worked for herself. She even felt uncomfortable when her parents offered her and her brother the occasional handout. When she'd dated in the past, she always tried to balance things. Yes, she might let a guy buy her a drink or pay for dinner first time out, but she always wanted to pay the next time around. And she'd always dated someone on a similar pay scale as her. This time, things were way out of balance. There was no way she could ever match Jon's ability to spoil her.  
 _I know. It just makes me feel a little… inferior, I guess. I could never do the same for you.  
\- That's not what it is about, Claire. I'm not expecting anything in return. I want to do nice things for you. I don't want your money. Your company is more than enough for me.  
_Claire felt her heart swell. Her unease remained about the amount of money he spent on her, but she was pleased to know that he wasn't thinking less of her for not being able to match it _._  
 _Thanks. I wish I could do nice things for you too, but truth is, you've got everything you need, and everything you want. Or the means to acquire it!  
_ There was a moment before his next reply. _  
\- I haven't got everything I want. And besides, if you're that uncomfortable with it, you can repay me in kisses on Monday…  
_ She smiled. She could just imagine the grin on his face.  
 _I fully intend to._

*******************************************************************************************************  
After they'd bused to their new location early Saturday morning, the girls went shopping. Claire took advantage of Lucy spending too much time in the shoe department to browse the lingerie section. She wondered if it would insult Jon if she wore a racy lacy set while she was in Vegas. He'd been working so hard to prove to her he was serious, and if she showed up in sexy lingerie the first time they'd be sleeping under the same roof, would she undermine that? _What if he doesn't plan on anything happening between us?_ _I'd look like a fool._ Although, she doubted that he'd turn her down if she started making advances, particularly after the way he'd kissed her in the locker room on Tuesday night. He'd been frantic, hungry almost, and when they had come up for air, she'd noticed a need in his eyes that hadn't been there previously. And she didn't think she could take any more of the PG rated stuff. Her body had been on fire when they'd been making out on his bed last weekend, and although she'd never tell him, she had thought of him while she played with herself three nights ago. She wanted him, definitely. _I'll take my chances,_ she thought, picking a dark charcoal set off the rack, and a lacy red teddy on her way to the changing room.

When she emerged, Lucy was waiting for her. "How did you know I was in here?" Claire asked. Lucy gave her a dubious stare. "I started thinking," she answered, "if I were Claire, who doesn't like shopping, what would I be interested in buying? You told me you'd just been shopping with your mom, so you should have everything you need. So I asked what you wouldn't be comfortable buying in front of your mom. And the answer was a vibrator and sexy panties. And they don't sell vibrators here." Claire flushed. Lucy didn't exactly say that in a whisper. A few eyes turned their way and she wanted to hide. "Inside voice, please," Claire willed. Lucy gasped and took the teddy out of her hands. "Don't tell me this is for who I think it is?" Claire furrowed her brow. "It's for me," she replied. Lucy's eyes rolled. "Yes, but no one buys this kind of thing unless there's someone they're intending to see it. God Claire, you'll look like a porn star." Just as Claire was about to respond, Lucy added. "That's probably just his type anyway." Claire whacked Lucy on the arm with her hand. "Stop it! I'm not the one with a f—k buddy, am I? I'm over your constant chipping away about him. You haven't seen what I've seen; you don't know him like I do. There's a decent man under there. At least I've given him the chance to prove it." She paused momentarily. "And yeah, maybe I do want to look nice for him. Maybe I actually give a damn about who I sleep with, and the fact it will mean something. I don't think you're in any position to pass comment on me at the moment." She snatched the items out of Lucy's hands and made her way to the counter to pay for them. As she handed over the money, she saw Lucy appear out of the corner of her eye. "Damn, Claire," she said. "You finally stood up for yourself. Took you long enough." Claire shot her a look. Lucy had a wry smile on her face. "I'm not even mad. I'm kinda proud."

Claire kept to herself for the rest of the day. She hit the hotel pool instead of checking hashtags; she was too wound up and needed to release some time to herself. As she followed the black line along the bottom of the pool, she recalled what she'd said to Lucy. She wasn't easily insulted and Claire didn't think what she'd said to her would stick. Lucy would shrug it off. But she was glad she'd got it out. Lucy's treatment of Jon, even if it wasn't to his face, was uncalled for, and hurtful. She hadn't been saying anything bad about Carl, even when he'd been acting sulky towards her. Lucy didn't give her the same courtesy, especially knowing that Jon meant something to her. She was extra glad she'd bought the lingerie now. What she'd said to Lucy had been the final justification. _When we finally get there, it is going to mean something. And that will show him that I've put effort in._


	27. Boys will be boys

Jon woke on Monday morning with a buzz in his stomach. He always looked forward to seeing Claire, but he was feeling the added excitement of knowing they would have four days together this week. Two of those at his place. He didn't want to go making assumptions about what would happen those two nights, so before he had left for the house shows, he'd set up the guest bedroom. He'd ordered in a cleaner on Thursday who ensured the house was cleaner than it had ever been since he moved in. Not that it had been overly messy, but he wanted to know that when he and Claire walked through the door, there would be no surprises.

He'd spoken to Claire on the phone last night and arranged for her to come to his room after their team planning meeting. She'd sounded a little out of sorts, but he couldn't put his finger on it. When he asked if she was okay, she'd said she was fine, but she certainly didn't sound her bubbly self. She had mentioned she was tired, and he hoped that she'd caught up on sleep overnight. He knew she took her job seriously and worked hard, but he hoped she wasn't overdoing it. He also hoped Zane wasn't taking advantage of her work ethic and enthusiasm and overloading her. _Or maybe Lucy doesn't pull her weight._ Either way, he was hoping Claire felt better today and was as keen for their time together as he was.

A few hours later, there was a knock at his door. He welcomed Claire in with a smile, and once the door was closed, wrapped her up in a hug. They didn't say anything for a moment, and after a quick kiss, she looked up at him. "I really missed you this weekend," she said, nuzzling into his chest. He placed a hand gently on her hair and kissed to top of her head. "I missed you too," he whispered. It was true. He had never been co-dependent or needed anyone's company to enjoy himself, but over the weekend, he had really felt Claire's absence. Things between them had advanced quite quickly after a slow start, and as he'd told her that night on the rooftop, it was addictive. He'd even thought about her in the ring on Saturday night. That was a first. He could count on one hand the number of times his mind had strayed while he was wrestling. He was always fully immersed in the match and calling the coming spots. But while he'd been lying on the outside, he noticed someone in the crowd wearing a Penguins shirt. He'd thought of Claire and her massively oversized Penguins hoodie. It was fleeting, as soon Bray was on him again. But he'd registered it and acknowledged that now she was invading the one part of his life he thought he had full control over.

They sat together on the bed for a while, talking about their respective weekends. Nothing Claire said hinted at anything which would've made her angry or sad on the phone the previous night. _Maybe she was just tired._ He asked her about the planning meeting. "It was good," she replied. "Zee's really happy with how Lucy and I have been going on the house shows, and he's even asked me to help out with his reports for the management meetings." Jon assumed that was a compliment. "That's awesome. So do you have to offload something else to do that?" Claire shook her head. "No, that'll be an extra thing I help out with." He frowned. "And when are you going to have time to do that? You're online all the time working, and I reckon you only tell me 40% of the time you spend working on your days off or during your downtime over the weekend. I know you're wanting to make a good impression, but you can't burn yourself out." Claire sighed. "It won't take that long. I did similar things back at HQ so it's nothing new. And besides, look at it like you look at hitting the gym. Extra work is like extra conditioning for my career." He couldn't help but laugh. "Are you always this positive? That must be exhausting," he laughed. She elbowed him gently. "Shut up and kiss me," she demanded. _Yes ma'am._

Carl was allocated to cover Jon's storyline for RAW. Jon hoped it wouldn't be awkward. Although Claire had said he'd never mentioned anything about the two of them, he assumed that Carl had noticed them getting closer. He'd been out on the town with them, and while nothing overtly obvious had taken place, Jon admitted that you'd have to be stupid to not put it all together. He assumed Carl wasn't aware of how much he knew about the work situation either. _Just keep your mouth shut. And be pleasant._ Carl didn't say much himself, just passing on what creative had planned. He didn't ask Jon's input or discuss anything with him. They set up a couple of pre-shots and a short video for Snapchat and Carl left him in the hallway. _No wonder Claire's getting all the praise,_ he thought. Sure, he had a bias, but even some of the other guys had commented on how Claire made it feel like you had a say in how your character was portrayed. And she was friendly. Carl seemed robotic in comparison.

During the show, Eden rounded up the regulars and encouraged them to attend a club down the road. Jon had agreed, assuming Claire would be part of it. But when he bumped into her briefly after the show, taking photos of Charlotte, she said she'd offered to help the merchandise team pack up. Someone was sick, or something, and they needed some help packing up for the night. _Of course she would put her hand up._ With people around, their interaction had been brief and he didn't have chance to press her for information, but she did whisper she'd get there as soon as she could. So he headed out with the group, and they'd got through two rounds of drinks when Eden announced to the group that Claire wouldn't be joining them. _What?_ Eden continued. "She says she'd only just finished up at the venue and she's exhausted, so she's going to straight to bed." Jon felt some eyes fall on him, and he tried not to display his disappointment on his face. He took a swig of his beer, and looked at Lucy. She had a steely look in her eye, as if she was challenging him to get up and leave. He decided he would stay. Claire wouldn't be lying; he knew she was tired and it was best to leave her to it. But he couldn't decide if Lucy would think less or more of him if he stayed. If he left, she might assume it was an elaborate plan for them to spend time together. If he stayed, she might berate him for not caring about Claire's well-being and not checking on her. But he didn't care what Lucy thought. _Especially when she's already decided I'm a worthless piece of shit._

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. _It'll be her._ He waited five minutes then excused himself to the bathroom.  
 _Sorry to leave you hanging. Was a bigger task than I was sold. I'm shattered. See you in the morning?  
\- That's okay. Sleep well, catch you in the AM.  
_He sighed. Months ago, he'd have enjoyed this kind of night out with his friends. Now, even though those same people were still present, he knew he spend the rest of the night acknowledging the one person who wasn't.

Jon settled back at the table. He struck up conversation with Cody, sitting to his right. They chatted about the crowd at the show, and the title change from the PPV, which neither of them were overly pleased with. There was a lull in the conversation, before Cody asked "You're really into her, aren't you?" He looked sideways at him. He'd known Cody for a long time, and had idolised his father. Dusty had been a wonderful mentor and friend as he made his way in the WWE, and he and Cody had always been close. Cody meeting and marrying Eden had pleased him, and together, they'd encouraged him when he started to wonder if he'd ever have something like that. Jon looked at him sincerely. "Yeah man, I am." Cody smiled. "That's great, man." He rose his glass and Jon did the same, tapping them together gently. "How does it feel?" Cody asked, chuckling to himself. A smirk rose on Jon's face. "Depends. When she's around everything's great, I feel awesome. But it's when she's not around that I realise just how unfamiliar all this is to me, to want to be around someone so much. That's the scary part." Cody nodded, and looked over at Eden, who was chatting with Lucy. "I know. It's hard to accept that being on your own, everything you're used to, that isn't enough anymore. You kinda feel like it's not manly to feel like that. But then she smiles and you know you can't fight it. Right?" Jon let out a sideways smile. _Totally._ "Yeah, although you guys are much further down the track than we are." Cody dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Yeah, but that feeling lasts. It's all different once it matters. If she's the one, that is." He smirked at Jon, giving him a mocking elbow. "Come on now, it's too early for that," Jon laughed. "Is it?" Cody enquired. "I can see she's got you all worked up. You've never smiled this much in your entire life." They both laughed. "That's true," Jon conceded. "But it's all quite new at the moment, bro. Unchartered territory for me. I'm not labelling her just yet."

"So, have you sealed the deal yet bro?" Jon didn't realise that Dolph had overheard their conversation. Suddenly he didn't want to talk about it anymore, and Cody must've sensed that. "Calm down, man. They're just starting out," he said. Dolph wasn't having any of it. "I know Mox. I know what he's after. I bet he's had her legs in the air already." Dolph was the only one laughing. "Give it rest, man," Jon said. He knew it was just banter, but he didn't appreciate him talking about Claire like that. "Oh come on bro," Dolph urged, "you've never shied away from talking about it before. Unless…." There was a pause, and both Cody and Jon turned towards him. "She's holding out on you, isn't she?!" He threw his head back. "Oh, Mox. Man… Tough luck bro." Jon took a swig of his beer. _Just keep your mouth shut before you do something you don't want to._ Cody pushed his empty glass in Dolph's direction. "It's your shout,bro." Dolph got up to head to the bar, and placed a sympathetic hand on Jon's shoulder. "Keep at it, man. The Titty Master always gets his way."

Cody was quick to support Jon. "Don't listen to him. His track record isn't the greatest. Even if that's true, you know what you're doing. I'm sure you've got a game plan." Jon nodded. "She's coming to Vegas this week," he revealed, quietly. Cody grinned. "Dude, you're taking her home?" Jon nodded again. "That's great!" Cody commended. "You must be serious about her." There was a long silence. "Yeah, I think I am," he finally answered. Cody nodded a couple of times. "You got this bro," holding out his fist. As they bumped fists, Jon thought to himself _I sure hope so._


	28. Dawn

In the morning, Claire woke early and did a few quick laps in the pool. She was waiting in the lobby for an elevator, and when the doors opened, she was pleasantly surprised to see Jon. He was dressed in his workout gear, on his way to the gym. "Hey you, you must've been up early," he said, taking her in. She had her hotel robe over the top of her wet swimsuit, her hair wrapped up in a towel and flip flops on her feet. _I bet I look ridiculous,_ she lamented. "Yeah, I slept well, and wanted to get in the pool to start the day. I'm going to be a busy bee today, so it needed to be early." He beckoned her into the elevator. "Come on, come with me."

She stepped inside the elevator and he pushed the button for the basement. He took her hand and they found the stairwell. He sat down on a step, and as Claire positioned herself to sit down next to him, his arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her onto his knee. She let out a laugh and kissed his cheek. He smiled softly , not removing his hands from around her. "Everything alright?" he asked. "You've been a little… not-Claire these past couple of days." _Have I?_ she wondered. His thumb was moving softly across her knee. "Yeah, I've just been busy and tired," she replied. "But, after a good night's sleep and a few laps in the pool, I'm feeling ready to face the day. And then my first ever trip to Nevada," she added, with a sly grin on her face. She leaned down to kiss him, and he turned her soft, innocent peck into a full, open mouthed kiss. She found herself falling into him, one hand cupping his face, and pushing her tongue into his mouth. A soft chuckle emanated from his chest and he copied her action. His hand on her knee slowly ran halfway up her thigh and back again, and the robe fell away from her skin. Jon's hand repeated its journey, feeling warm against her cool skin. Claire felt goosebumps emerge on her arms as his hand moved up and down her leg. She wrapped both arms around his neck and deepened their kiss. She recognised the tingle building between her legs, and did her best to ignore it.

They both took a couple of deep breaths. "You should probably go workout more than your tongue." He chuckled, shaking his head. "What if I've changed my mind?" he asked with a cheeky spark in his eyes. "Tough luck," she said, standing up, against his arms trying to hold her back. "Get it done. Because I need to go have a shower. I stink like chlorine." Jon smiled. "Yeah, it isn't your best look," he chuckled. "So, see you in Tennessee?" he asked hopefully. "Yeah, I won't know the allocations for another couple of hours, but I'll text you when I know," she replied. "Are we leaving from the venue?" Jon nodded. He'd paid for her ticket to Vegas, and arranged a late night flight from Knoxville. "Be prepared to sleep on the flight, I've got plans when we land." He leaned forward and kissed her quickly, before running up the stairs. Claire headed back to the elevator and rode it to her floor. _I wonder what those plans are…._

Following the planning meeting en route to the venue, Claire was feeling confident. Zane had applauded her work on the analytic reports and mentioned some of her findings when addressing the team. Also, Carl had spoken to her before the meeting and apologised for his behaviour. "I really was pissed at Zane, not you. I shouldn't have been a dick about it." Claire acknowledged that it wouldn't have been easy for him to say sorry, so accepted it and gave him a hug. He had even complimented her work recently and wanted to catch up next week to discuss strategies. That had really boosted her mood, which was already positive. She was glad things would return to normal.

She had been allocated Brie Bella, the Wyatts, Rusev and Dolph. Carl would be dealing with Jon again, and she was much more comfortable with it now that they'd put shit behind them. It was another frantic night; running after the talent, liaising with them about what shots would work, taking the pre-shots, creating written content and uploading to the storage drive for the team at HQ to use on Thursday night, and the same with post-shots. Having four allocations was a heavy workload, but she was happy for the distraction. As excited as she was about heading to Vegas with Jon, she was equally nervous. Having a busy schedule kept her mind free from overanalysing. It would also ensure she would be tired enough to catch some sleep on the plane. _Although that didn't work so well when heading to Atlanta…_

Claire had offered to help Zane with a few things at the end of the show, which doubled as a convenient excuse to get out of a ride to the airport with Lucy. Once she'd picked up her bags from the storage room, she met Jon in the parking lot. He was leaning against a wall, smiling at her. _Far out,_ she thought to herself _, no wonder he had girls throwing themselves at him._ "You ready?" he asked, taking her bags from her. They got into a waiting cab, and within seconds, Jon's hand found hers. Claire felt like a kid on Christmas, and the smile on Jon's face replicated that. "Totally. Sin City here I come," she laughed. "You high roller," he scoffed, squeezing her hand.

Claire woke as the hostess announced their decent into Las Vegas. She'd managed to sleep through most of the flight, helped by the upgraded tickets Jon had arranged for them. _It's so comfortable up here!_ She looked out the window at the lights of the city. They dazzled even at 5am. She'd always wanted to come to Vegas; see a show, take in the lights, try her hand on a blackjack table even though she'd never played in her life. She didn't know if Jon had any of that planned for their days together or not. She imagined that most residents of city probably didn't hit the strip every night. _Oh well,_ she thought, _hopefully there's a next time._

Jon had left his car at the airport when he left last week. After he loaded their bags into the trunk, he turned to her and said "Are you ready to see Las Vegas by sunrise?" He'd scouted a place last week where they could watch the sun come up over the city. He figured it would a better way to start their time together than going straight back to his place, where either of them might be tired enough to want to catch some sleep. He wanted to delay the potentially awkward sleeping arrangement scenario for as long as he could. Claire smiled. "It's been a while since I've seen the sun rise," she replied. "Me too, on purpose," he told her as they got in the car. As he drove, took the occasional glimpse over to her in the passenger seat. Despite only a few hours of sleep, she was wide eyed, taking in the sights. He smiled. Las Vegas had a personality all of its own, and depending what you were looking for, you'd see a different side of the city. He didn't move here for the gambling or debauchery, although that suited Dean Ambrose down to the ground. He actually moved here for a tax break. He'd not spent much time on the Strip; he'd visited the odd bar when some of his old indie friends had come to town, but most of the time, he was too tired from the road to want to leave the house. He enjoyed not being around people. He couldn't tell if Claire would want to see any of the touristy crap. He assumed she'd be into shows, maybe big dancing ones, but the rest of the kitschy stuff, he couldn't tell. He hadn't planned anything like that for their two days together, but if she wanted to see it, he'd show her. _Plus, there's always next time…._

He parked up halfway up the road to the National Park. From here, he'd be able to show her the Strip, the plain suburbs beyond the city, and the desert. He pulled out the blanket he'd prepared last week and lay it on the ground next to the car. They had picked up coffees at the airport and finished drinking those looking out to the city. The darkness of the night was starting to disappear, with the first signs of light emerging on the horizon. _Perfectly timed, if I do say so myself._ "Do you think every city is pretty by sunlight? Or maybe it's the desert that adds that something extra," Claire asked him. He shrugged. "I've seen some pretty plain cities in my time. I think if you've got something natural, like mountains, or oceans or trees, or in this case, a desert, the colours accentuate it." He put his arm around her, and she snuggled into his shoulder. The sun slowly peered over the horizon, turning the city orange inch by inch.

"So, what do you want to do while you're here?" he asked casually, as if he didn't already have a bunch of plans. Claire shrugged. "I don't mind. I was hoping that the local resident would take me all the places I needed to see." He laughed. "If I was playing tour guide, the places I think you need to see aren't anywhere near the Strip. Getting out here, up the mountains, out in the desert, that's what you'd need to see." She smiled. "Sounds perfect. Although, to be honest, I don't really care what we do. It'll be nice to have more time just us." He placed a hand on her cheek and guided her lips towards his. "That's the answer I was looking for," he said, kissing her softly. He looked at her and thought about how many songs and movies mentioned seeing the sunrise; how romantic and special it was. He doubted it was the colour of skyline, but she did look very kissable. He couldn't resist, lowering his head to kiss her again. "Well, why don't we drop the bags off and come back here. We can hike one of the tracks and then see where the day takes us. And later head out for dinner somewhere." She shook her head, which surprised him. He thought that sounded like something she'd enjoy. "We always eat out, or have food provided for us. I'd like to cook tonight." This time, he was the one to shake his head. "No way. You're my guest. I should offer to cook for you, but I can't really cook so I'll take you out for a meal." Claire sighed. "No, Jon. Please. You know that I already feel uncomfortable with the amount of money you spend on me. You've paid for me to be here. The least I can do is cook for you. And I'd like to." He pursed his lips. "I wish you didn't feel that way, I'm not keeping score. But sure, that sounds lovely. We'll swing by the store on the way to pick up what you need."

He meant what he'd said about not keeping count, but as they lay back watching the sun get higher, their fingers linked together, he thought about the logistics of her offer. _At least we won't have to waste any time driving home tonight…_ Hewas hoping that by suggesting an evening at home, Claire had a similar train of thought as he did. Even if tonight wasn't _the_ night, he still intended on trying to advance things from last Saturday, so long as she didn't object. He wasn't one to wish his life away, but he found himself wishing the clock would jump forward 12 hours. _How am I not meant to go crazy between now and then?_


	29. Breaking point

Claire had been thinking about cooking for Jon for the past couple of days. She thought it was a good way to show appreciation for the trip, as well as for him. She wasn't a star in the kitchen but had a few tried and true dishes she could handle. Tonight, she'd decided on paprika fish with a potato bake. As she prepped, with Jon setting the table behind her, she thought back over the day. The sunrise moment may have been cliché, but things are cliché for a reason. It had been breath-taking, watching the sun give life to the outer reaches of the city, a burning colour to the desert and reveal what the bright lights of the strip had been hiding. She'd listened, her head against his shoulder, as he pointed various aspects of the city. Just like he'd said, he was full of information you'd not find in a tourist guide. It had been the best introduction to the city she could've imagined, and having Jon's arm around her, safe from prying eyes, just added to the moment.

After a stop at a grocery store, they had dropped their bags off at Jon's house before getting changed for a hike. Claire hadn't known what to expect, but she was surprised by the modesty of the place. It wasn't a studio above someone's garage, but it wasn't a palatial mansion she'd heard some of the other guys lived in. Everything inside was new and impressive, but the house itself was only three bedrooms. She thought about that; he was a bachelor who only had two nights at home a week, if that, so he didn't need anything too over the top. It was neat and tidy also, and she suspected that with his salary, he delegated the cleaning to someone else. _Oh to have that luxury..._

Their hike had taken four hours and had left them both hot and sweaty. At one stage, Claire had caught Jon staring at her, not even attempting to hide the path of his eyes as they journeyed over her body and back up to her face. She had blushed, and asked what he was looking at. He'd chuckled and replied "I love it when you're hot and sweaty." Claire had felt her stomach flutter. _Me too_ , she'd thought to herself. The look on his face had her convinced he wouldn't be satisfied with canoodling and kissing during the trip. Which she was thankful for, because four hours hiking next to a topless, sweaty Jon had given her impure thoughts also.

Jon had taken her the scenic route home; around the desert, through new multi-million dollar housing developments and through town, before returning to his place. She had showered and very consciously worn her new lingerie underneath her jeans and shirt. She didn't have the best self-esteem but had liked the look of herself in the bathroom mirror. _Accentuates the assets_ , she thought. She was now enjoying preparing their dinner while Jon sat at breakfast bar, watching. "Can't I help you?" he asked. Claire knew he'd be more trouble than good. "Sure. Talk to me. Tell me about the best and worst places you've toured."

This topic of conversation was a sufficient backdrop to see Claire through her preparation, and as she put the meal in the oven, Jon poured a glass of wine for them each. He handed one to Claire and raised the other in a toast. "Thank you for coming," he said softly. Claire smiled. "Thank you for inviting me," she replied, touching her glass to his. He put a hand on her hip and pulled her close to him, kissing her gently. They sat on the sofa and chatted casually. Claire made a mental note to limit her alcohol consumption. Not only did she not want to be drunk this evening, but she wanted to have all her faculties, including memory, with her through the night.

As Claire served up dinner, Jon inhaled and closed his eyes. "This smells incredible," he complimented her. She laughed. "I'm pretty sure after the walk we did today, anything would do the trick." He shook his head. "You need to learn how to take a compliment." He raised his glass again. "Here we go: To the beautiful woman who has cooked this awesome meal; thank you. Here's to the rest of our time together," he said, looking right into her eyes. Claire was certain her insides had just melted. "My pleasure," she managed to reply, before they began to eat.

After dinner, Jon had suggested a movie. He was shocked to learn Claire had never seen Point Break, of his favourites. "It's a classic, so many great moments. How did you get through life without it?" Claire settled in on the sofa, her legs tucked up underneath her. "Somehow I managed to survive," she chuckled. "So is my whole world about to change?" He smiled and Claire felt the butterflies in her stomach once more. "Oh definitely," he replied. He sat down on the sofa, with his arm across the back of it. He beckoned with his head for Claire to move closer. She scooted along the seat until she was nestled in the crook of his arm. He smiled down at her and brought his hand to rest on her shoulder. Claire felt a rush of warmth throughout her body. This felt different than other times they'd been this close. She felt comfortable, safe. She felt like no matter what did or didn't happen tonight, or tomorrow night, Jon was still going to want her around. _I don't feel like a commodity, a hired whore._

The movie was tolerable. Claire was getting more enjoyment out of Jon mimicking the actors and quoting the lines in each scene. She laughed, and he turned to her inquisitively. "You're more entertaining than the movie," she told him. His jaw dropped in mock insult, before he conceded. "Well I am an action hero. Maybe they should've included Detective John Shaw in the remake." Claire laughed. "No, Dean Ambrose. A few more chops and slaps is what this movie needs," she laughed. She punched and slapped the air, providing her own sound effects. Jon smirked at her, and the arm around her pulled her into him. "You're ridiculously adorable," he told her. Claire placed her hand on his chest, looking at him. _Now's your chance girl_. She felt a smirk of her own appear on her face, and she leant up to kiss him. Softly at first, before bringing her hand to his neck and pulling him into her. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and heard him sigh through his nose. He adjusted himself on the sofa so he was facing her, never breaking their kiss, and wrapped his other arm around her. She felt his hand run down her side and stop on her hip. Internally, she scoffed _. We're not stopping there_.

When they broke for air, Claire took the opportunity to take the lead. She leveraged off her bottom leg, pushed him back into the sofa and threw the other leg across him, repositioning herself in his lap. It happened so quickly he was taken by surprise. "Woah," he said as Claire placed her arms around his neck. "Righto then". He grinned and Claire felt his hands run down her back as they kissed again. She enjoyed having the leverage of being higher than he was; it made her feel more in control. _Hopefully he doesn't mind that..._ Their kissing intensified; Claire's fingers were threaded through his hair, pulling herself as close as possible, and Jon's hands were alternating between caressing her back and traveling over her hips and top of her butt. Claire felt his lips move off hers, and travel across her jaw line and down her neck. She threw her head back, revelling in how good it felt to have his mouth on her skin. His mouth travelled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along her collarbone and the skin vacant in the v of her shirt. She planted gentle kisses on the top of his head, working her fingers along the back of his neck. A gentle sigh escaped her lips, and she felt a low grown reverberate through his.

He brought his head up to hers and they kissed, again, deep and full of passion. Claire could feel the familiar tingle rising within her. The feel of his lips on her skin had ignited something in her. In the midst of their frantic kisses, she began to unbutton her shirt. She now cursed her decision wear a tank top underneath; at the time she was dressing for warmth, but she now felt on fire. Jon pulled back to watch, raising his hands to her shoulders to help shrug off the shirt. His fingers drifted down her arms softly, and she noticed his eyes fall to her chest. He pulled her into him again, kissing her mouth, her neck and down her chest, across the top of her breasts. His touch was so soft, Claire couldn't believe this was the same man she'd heard all those stories about. His hands found their way under her tank top and ran half way up her back. Claire pulled his head up to kiss him again, and began to buck her hips into him slowly. She heard him grunt, and his hands under her top moved higher, bringing the singlet with them. Claire pulled back to help him, pulling the top over her head and discarding it to the floor. She watched as Jon's eyes fixed on her chest. As he took her in, in her new lacy bra, she thought she noticed his tongue roam over his bottom lip. His hands travelled up her back, over her shoulders and gently down her chest, over her bra and down her stomach, leaving a trail of heat under her skin. She began to move her hips again, and his hands found their way to help guide her. As they kissed, Claire could hear his breathing growing shorter. She copied his previous motion and planted gentle kisses down his neck, while he ran his hands along her thighs.

Claire didn't know how much longer she could take this. Every time he touched her, she wanted to rip the rest of her clothes off. She wondered if after being so forward, he was expecting her to make the next move. She suddenly felt quite conscious of the fact she was near-topless, grinding against him, and he was still fully clothed. _Perhaps it wasn't in his plans,_ she mused. By the time she'd made her way back to his mouth, he had brought his hands to her face, holding her still. He stared in her eyes, intensely, and Claire willed for whatever he was looking for to be visible on her face. After a moment, he kissed her haphazardly, then rested his forehead against her. "I need to hear you say it," he said breathlessly. He looked up at her, his eyes full of desire, and Claire felt her heart stop momentarily. She placed a hand on his face, and looked him right in the eye. "Take me to bed, Jonny."


	30. Heat of the desert

"Take me to bed Jonny."

Jon felt a burning in his loins, and a flutter in his chest. Claire was straddled in his lap, grinding against him, her chest only inches from his face. Of course his body was responding. But it was the reaction of his heart that surprised him most. He'd needed her to say the words, to tell him she wanted this too, so there was no doubt, for either of them. Not that he doubted it after she'd been so forward tonight. He liked that. It showed him that she needed this too. And when she confirmed that, he felt like his chest was going to burst. _Why does this feel so good and nothing's happened yet?_

He pulled her face down to his and kissed her hungrily. He'd been cautious until now in case she'd wanted to hold back. But now he knew he could let himself go. He'd thought about this moment, plenty of times, and assumed he would get carried away. He was breaking the longest dry spell he could remember, and breaking it with a woman who had captured him like never before. He wondered if he could control himself. Claire pulled her lips away from his and whispered "Please, Jonny." Her pleading sent a wave of desire through him, and he stood up off the sofa, holding her against him. Claire wrapped her legs around his waist, and he brought his hands under her bottom. She was pressed tightly against him and he could feel himself straining inside his jeans. With Claire kissing and sucking his neck, he carried her into the bedroom, doing his best to concentrate on the task and not how good her lips felt.

He gently lay her down on the bed before stepping back to look at her. _That's a sexy bra_ , he thought to himself, taking her in. Her boobs looked great propped up by the lace; her stomach soft and hips curved. She still had her jeans on. _Not for long._ There was something alluring about knowing he still had more to unwrap. He lifted his shirt up and over his head and crawled up the bed alongside her. Now they were even. "Equity, remember," he said, as she ran her fingers down his chest. He positioned himself above her and leaned down to kiss her. He let his mouth deviate from hers, kissing out along her jawline to her earlobe. He sucked on that and heard a soft moan from her throat. He sighed heavily. The thought of him turning her on only increased his own arousal. He kissed his way down her neck and into her cleavage. One hand travelled up from her side to trace over the lace outline of her bra. He watched as her nipple hardened at his touch, and ran his fingers over it. He kissed the soft mounds protruding from the bra, before he noticed her leaning up, pushing him gently away from her. Her arms reached around to unclasp her bra, and he noticed himself holding his breath. _Come on, it's not as if you've not seen boobs before…_ But there was added anticipation at seeing Claire's. He helped her shrug the straps from her shoulders and pull the garment from her skin. Her breasts rolled free from the confines of the bra, and Jon found himself pulled towards them, almost magnetically. They were warm, and soft, with her hardened nipples an excited juxtaposition. He ran his tongue over one gently, while rolling the other between his fingers. Claire exhaled softly and Jon felt her fingers run through his hair. They softly massaged his scalp, heightening his senses. He felt on fire. He made sure to give the opposite nipple the same treatment, before he cautiously began a trail of kisses down her stomach. With a quick glance up to check Claire's response, he continued. She ran her hands up his arms as he moved down her body.

Jon's mouth reached Claire's jeans, and he looked up at her as he began to unbutton them. Her eyes were piercing; wide and bright, and he could sense the longing in them. _She's probably burning like I am._ He undid the buttons and zipper, and Claire raised her hips off the bed. He hooked his fingers underneath the material and gently pulled it down over her hips and legs. The lacy panties came with them, and he briefly acknowledged that they matched the bra which had been discarded previously. _She came prepared,_ he thought, as Claire's lower body was revealed to him. He had wriggled down the bed to strip the jeans from her, and once they were past her feet, he stood. He looked down at her and gulped. She was beautiful. Her body was soft where his was hard, curved where his was chiselled. He wanted to cover every inch of her body, a new sensation for him. Ordinarily he did what he needed to do to make sure a girl was ready, but never revelled in foreplay. With Claire lying naked in front of him, while yes, his eyes were drawn to the predictable, he felt an incredible need to touch her, to kiss her everywhere. He quickly rid himself of his own jeans and boxers, noticing Claire's eyes flicker south briefly. He positioned himself between her legs, laying gentle kisses up her thigh. He could sense Claire's excitement; the undeniable smell of arousal emanated from her.

He continued kissing her, passing past her vagina and back up over her stomach. He stopped briefly at her chest before arriving at her mouth. "You're so beautiful," he managed to get out between kisses. Claire smiled at him and brought his head back down to her. He felt her adjust herself and her legs fall further apart. He ran a hand down her side, down her smooth thigh, acknowledging the contours of the muscles he'd admired countless times, and back up the inside of her leg. He let his hand come to rest on top of her mound, which was seasoned with just the smallest patch of soft, well-manicured hair. He smiled into her kiss as he felt her hips buck slightly, before letting his fingers slip through the soft skin. He moaned audibly as warmth and moisture covered his skin. _That's so hot,_ he thought to himself, _and I did this to her._ Claire's legs had widened even further and he didn't need any further invitation. He shifted down the bed, bringing his arms down under her bent legs. Using his fingers, he spread her outer lips to get a good look at her. He felt the burning in his loins shift up a level. _It looks f**king delicious._ It had been a long time, and the lull was starting to make itself known. He had a rule; generally, he only used his fingers in foreplay. He'd learned vicariously from one of his indie pals who had caught something from some girl somewhere along the way, and Jon had decided that it wasn't worth the risk. He didn't know what these girls got up to. But Claire, he was certain he'd have nothing to worry about. And he wasn't sure he could help himself. He flattened his tongue and ran it between the soft folds. Claire exhaled softly, looking down at him, and shot him a sly grin when they made eye contact. _F**k she's sexy._

He took his time exploring her using his mouth and fingers. He paid close attention to what made her change her breathing, what made her move in time with him. He found a pattern, moving his fingers in and out of her and sucking gently on her clit, which he had decided must be her preference. He changed up his rhythm and intensity, guided by her breathing. He lapped at her hungrily; seeing her respond to his touch was driving him wild. He took in the shape of her body, how her chest looked from this angle, and the way she rolled her hips up into him. After a while, he noticed that Claire had gone completely silent. He looked up at her; her eyes were closed, she was sucking on her bottom lip, and she arched her back. He became hyper-aware of what he was doing, and increased his pace, placing one arm across her hips to keep her connected to him. She stopped moving, and he briefly wondered if he should change his tactics. The thought was thrown from his mind when he heard her intake breath sharply, then felt her hips buck into him aggressively. He moaned and continued to pump his hand in and out of her, listening to her heavy breathing. He felt her hand clamp down on his. "Stop," she said breathlessly through giggles. "It's really sensitive." He licked his lips and let her pull him up the bed. He kissed her softly, knowing she'd be able to taste herself on his tongue. The thought of that sent a thrill of desire through him. "You're so beautiful," he repeated to her. "So delicious." Claire smiled and pushed him firmly on to his back.

He swallowed quickly. He hoped he knew what was coming. He'd thought about it enough during lonely nights on tour or here at home. She straddled his torso, kissed him firmly and grabbed his hands in hers. They kissed like this for a few moments, and Jon felt the burn inside him growing. He'd usually use his own hand to encourage a girl down there, or to appease his desire while she tried to titillate him. It rarely worked; he usually wanted to rush anything that didn't involve a girl's mouth or hand. But he happily allowed Claire to pin him softly to the bed, kissing his cheeks, his neck and chest. Every place her lips touched left a buzz under his skin. She made her way down his body, moving herself lower, and untangling their fingers. He watched as she positioned herself beside his legs, surveying his erection. _I wonder what she thinks of it?_ he asked himself. _What?_ He'd never cared what a girl had thought of him, he never had time to think anything. His thoughts were interrupted by the feel of Claire's hand cupping his balls. _Woah_. He watched as she massaged them around her palm. She then licked the length of him, passing over the head and spreading the fluid which had seeped out of him already. Every action left him aching for more. He sighed heavily, and she took him into her mouth. Her hand found its way around his base, moving up to meet her mouth. A low groan built in his throat. _She knows what she's doing._ He ran a hand up and down her back; even in this moment he needed to be touching her. His eyes were fixed on her every move. She began to increase her pace, and he noticed his breathing did the same. She lifted her lips off him, and brought her hand along the full length of him, turning to face him. He shook his head softly. _This feels so good_. He bit his lip as she continued sucking him, and used her free hand to caress his balls. _I should say something,_ he thought, not sure how long he could hold out. Her pace had increased again, until she slowly lowered her lips down as far as she could, taking in as much of him as possible. He grunted. _I really have to say something. But it feels too good._ She continued, and the combination of her lips on him, one hand moving quickly along him and the other stroking his balls was almost too much. He reached down and grabbed her wrist. "You better not," he said, gently pulling her away from him. "I have other plans and you're close to ruining them." They both chuckled, and she wriggled up to lie beside him. They kissed tenderly, and it wasn't long before they started moving against each other. _Now's the time,_ he thought. "Give me a minute," he said to her, disappearing into the bathroom.

He rummaged through the draw before finding a condom. He took a quick glimpse in the mirror, catching his own eye. He took a big breath, almost steeling himself. _Why are you so nervous? You've done this a thousand times._ He nodded to himself, and rounded the corner to the bedroom. Claire was spread out with a hand between her legs. A carnal wave washed over him. "Holy shit," he said audibly, rolling the condom on to himself. He knelt between her legs and brought his upper body up over the top of her. He kissed her again; despite having explored her body, he couldn't get enough of her lips. She pulled his head into hers, and when he pulled back from her, he saw a craving in her eyes. "Please Jon," she whispered. He kissed her once more and adjusted his hips against hers. He pushed himself up and used a hand to position himself at her entrance. He locked eyes with her as he pushed his way into her. _Oh god,_ he thought as he felt himself pierce through up inside her. She was wet, and warm, and tight. He groaned, and noticed Claire bite her lip. A loud sigh escaped her lips, and as he brought himself out again, and back in, she closed her eyes in pleasure. He set a slow but steady pace, and leaned back to watch himself disappear within her a few times, before leaning down on top of her. She pulled his lips to hers; they kissed erratically and breathed against each other. He positioned himself up on his arms and increased his pace. Claire responded by moving her hips in time with him. There was a soft slap of skin coming together, and Jon covered her chest with his mouth. He couldn't deny he wanted to be tasting as much of her as possible. "You feel so good, baby," he said, looking up at her. Claire bent her legs and grinded her pelvis against him. "So do you," she replied. Her hands roamed over his back, down his arms, and Jon closed his eyes. _This is so powerful._ There was a want, a need, to be touching her in every way possible, to have her touch as much of him as possible. With every thrust, every touch of her fingers, every flick of her tongue, he felt a deeper desire and pleasure.

He pulled back up on to his knees, and Claire wrapped her legs around his waist. He placed his hands on her hips to help raise her off the bed slightly. He increased his pace, bringing their bodies together vigorously. The movement of her boobs didn't escape his attention, and he watched as they were shaken by the impact of his thrusts. He brought one hand across her skin and let his thumb fall to her clit. He flicked over this a few times; Claire's mouth opened wide in response. Following a few more thrusts, he leaned down to kiss her, forcing his arms between her and the bed. In one swift move, he rolled onto his back, bringing her on top of him. _All that grappling has a purpose._ Claire squealed quickly, the movement had taken her by surprise. She laughed. "My favourite," she said as she adjusted herself and lowered down on to him. Jon bit his lip as she slid onto him; this new position brought with it a new sensation. It must be similar for Claire, as her eyes were closed softly and she licked her bottom lip. He brought his hands to her hips and helped her move up and down him. She leaned forward, down towards his chest, and his hands travelled up her back and across her shoulders. _So soft, so smooth_. Each time she came down on top of him, he pressed his hips up, desperate to get as deep inside her as possible. Claire sat upright and took her hands behind her for leverage. This brought her chest forward, and he just had to touch her. His hands massaged her boobs as they bounced in time with her movement. He had a fantastic view of his cock disappearing inside of her. _Shit this feels great, I hope it does for her too._ He'd not thought that before. He'd always assumed a girl was enjoying herself with him. He noticed Claire's rhythm change. She slowed down her bouncing pattern and rocked her hips forward slowly when he was deep inside her. She moaned softly, and repeated the action. She increased the pace, grinding with him buried deep inside her. She leaned forward and placed her hands on his chest for balance. Jon felt the muscles in her legs working as she rocked herself against him. He grabbed on to her arms and pushed his hips up to fill as much of her as possible. He remembered her behaviours when she had come earlier, and she was displaying some of those again. Her mouth was open, her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily. He groaned, desperate to bring her to orgasm. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. "Are you alright?" she asked. Jon couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my f**king god, I am so alright." He smiled as Claire laughed, and noticed her shift gear. She began to grind against him harder and faster, and Jon felt himself twitch inside her. _Oh no. No no no._ He was worried that he was going to finish before her. To distract himself, he bit his lip and relocated his hands to her hips, pulling her into his body as hard as he could. _Come on, Claire._ The bed was squeaking underneath him, and soon he felt Claire's legs shudder around him. He watched as her face contorted, her body moving aggressively against his, and felt her walls clench around him. She moaned, long and soft, as she bucked into him a few more times. Her whole body shuddered, and she collapsed forward on to his chest, breathing heavily. He brought his arms around her and closed his eyes. _Keep control, keep control._ Claire stopped moving, and he felt his composure return.

He chuckled slightly as he saw Claire's eyes regain focus on his. "That was incredible to watch," he said, running his fingers along her back. She laughed. "Worth the admission price?" He nodded. "Hell yes." She kissed him gently and Jon commended himself on being able to get her across the line. Seeing her satisfied was a burden he didn't know he was carrying, and it had felt fantastic to watch and feel her climax on top of him. He himself had felt a pleasure in that, and he didn't understand that. He could feel the tension building within him again, and he pulled out of her, placing his hands on her hips and turning her over. As he got to his knees, she wiggled her backside at him, and he leaned down to kiss it. It was one of the only areas he'd not kissed and he wasn't about to let that slide. He leaned forward and ran his hands long her back and back over her butt, before positioning himself inside her. He sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so on fire. Each time her entered her, and felt her walls wrap around him, it felt like the first time. It sent gentle, warm shockwaves through his body. His pace was quick from the start, desperate to feel those sensations as often as possible. His hands pulled her hips back into him, and he let one drop to gently caress her leg, before bringing it around underneath her. He rubbed her again, and Claire let out a low moan. _F**k it feels good to make her feel good._ He felt intoxicated by the pleasure flooding through him. Subconsciously, he was moving into her harder; his breathing grew rapid, and he hardly recognised the low groans building in his throat. "Oh yeah," he whispered as he moved faster. Claire was pushing back against him as he filled up her, and within two thrusts he felt the heat building inside him. His hips rolled into her and he felt himself explode. He let out a long moan, as he pumped his hips into her. His breathing was rapid, only slowing as his thrusts did. He leaned forward with his forehead falling on to Claire's back. _Holy crap. That felt so good._ He felt Claire's hand rub the back of his leg, and he let himself collapse onto the bed beside her. She rolled on to her side and ran her fingers up his stomach. She kissed him, and despite feeling completely spent, he found the energy to kiss her deeply, almost in appreciation. "Wooooo," he exhaled, wiping his forehead. She smiled. "Feel good?" she asked. _Are you kidding me? That was the most intense orgasm I've had in a long time. If not ever._ He nodded, before adding "You're incredible. Did you know that?" She laughed and lowered her eyes. "Well, I think you may have also had a part to play…" He ran a hand through her hair and cupped her face gently. He couldn't think of anything to say, so they stayed looking at each other for a long moment. Claire's chin fell on to her hand on his chest, which was still rising and falling in exertion.

Jon put his arm around her and pulled her as close as he could in to him. He kissed her temple softly, and felt himself smile at the thought that Claire wouldn't leave now. Usually he would get dressed and usher the girl out the door. But Claire was staying. For the first time in a long time, he would sleep a whole night next to someone. And they had another 24 whole hours to do that all over again.


	31. Insatiable

When Claire stirred in the morning, Jon was sleeping soundly on his back. She blinked a few times until her eyes focused, and watched him with a soft smile on her face. _Am I really here?_ She recalled the series of events that had led to her being in Las Vegas, in his bed. This never crossed her mind when she started with the company, not even when she had those dinners with him. Ever since that night on the rooftop things had flown by in a blur, and with everything that had been happening with her work, she'd found comfort and fun in her time with him. Her intrigue had developed into genuine feelings for him, and she couldn't help but think the same had happened to him. She was always reluctant to believe a man had strong feelings about her, particularly this one, who could have his pick of anyone he wanted. But his behaviour over the last couple of weeks, and actions last night, had done a great job of convincing her of his genuine intentions. He'd been so gentle, so attentive with her; completely different than what she'd imagined when she'd heard all those stories about him. She listened to his soft snoring and wondered if he was like that with every woman.She draped an arm across his torso and closed her eyes again, dozing off comfortably.

An hour or so later, they were both awake. "Good morning," Jon had said, before rolling over to kiss her gently. "What do you want to do today?" Claire hadn't really thought about it. She'd spent her time revisiting last night rather than thinking about their day today. "Could we walk down the Strip? Show me some of the tacky touristy things." He laughed. "Sure, although I've not done it all myself so I don't know all the hot spots." There was a moment's silence before he added "I've got one plan though – I'm going to make you breakfast." He rolled out of bed before she could argue and pulled on some boxers. "Breakfast in bed. Don't go anywhere," he said, pointing at her sternly. Claire sighed and relaxed back into the bed. She scrolled through her phone; first her personal social media, then the company's. She couldn't help herself; she wanted to know what the Universe were talking about and responding to. The fallout from the PPV was still a hot topic, and she knew the Smackdown content would fuel that further when it aired later tonight.

After a while, Jon walked in with two plates, settling himself in on the bed. He handed her a plate. "Okay, so I'm not a masterchef, but I make a pretty damn good skillet." She couldn't deny it smelled great. She didn't realise how hungry she was until he brought it in. It looked hearty, with eggs, bacon, potato and herbs in it. "I think it's because you can't f**k it up, you just throw everything in," he laughed. He was right, though, it was tasty, and Claire ate hers far too quickly. "That was great," she complimented him. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "It's one of only a couple things I know I can nail in the kitchen." He took their plates back out to the kitchen then returned to the bed. He beckoned her to come to him, and she rolled against him, settling into the crook of his arm. They chatted idly, before Claire noticed his hand creeping towards her chest. She still had no clothes on, given she'd not been out of bed yet. His fingers settled each side of her nipple, and he pinched at it softly while they continued to speak. He rolled it between his fingers and the sensations flicked through Claire's body. His hand cupped the full weight of her breast and jiggled it slightly. She smirked and turned her face to his. He was smiling. "Boobs are the best thing ever, don't you think?" he said with a cheeky grin. She leaned up and kissed him, and it wasn't long before he had her pinned to the bed, sucking her nipples and dropping his hand between her legs.

The next time Claire looked at the clock, it was almost 11am. "Holy crap, look at the time!" He scoffed. "I've not stayed in bed this long without a hangover in a really long time." She laughed internally. "Neither." She had no regrets, however, and wondered if it would be bad to suggest they didn't move for the whole day. He'd ignited something in her and found her want for him, and the way he was able to make her feel, insatiable. He'd had her breathless and desperate for release multiple times in the last 12 hours or so, and she wasn't yet tiring of it. She could do that all day. But she remembered that men were different, that he might need a break, and suggested they get up and walk around town. _If only to give him a chance to rest up for another round later_ , she thought. A brief thought flashed through her mind. _If all I want is sex on this trip, does that make me a skank? He's been so lovely, and would I come across as only being after one thing?_ She shook it from her mind. They'd connected more than just physically. She knew it, and hopefully he felt it too.

As they were about to leave the house, he pulled her close to her and kissed her deeply. "I'm so happy you're here," he said. "So am I," she returned, bringing a hand up to his face. They kissed for a moment, before his hands roamed up her back. "Don't," she said softly into his kiss. He looked at her with a confused look on her face. "You could easily have kept me in bed all day and if you start, we may not see the city." He chuckled. "I've seen it before, it's not that good," he said, continuing the trail with his hands, down onto her ass. "No," she said, jokingly pushing him away. "I want to see it!" She giggled as he tried to get closer to her again. "Okay, okay," he conceded, grabbing the car keys off the bench. "Just promise me we can come back to that."

Claire loved walking down the Strip. It was mid-afternoon so the clientele might've been different than peak night-time hours, but she could still feel the buzz and excitement. Families stopped and took selfies in front of fountains. Cars full of young people drove down the road with music thumping. People walked past in an array of outfits, and she and Jon tried to guess the reasons. Boys weekends. Girls weekends. Affairs. Heading to a party. Returning from work. Heading to a show. It was busy and frantic, and Claire could not get over the size of some of the hotels. "It's a long way from Wexford," Jon said, and she nodded. "I wonder if anyone can every really do it all. Surely somewhere along the way, you'd run out of money, steam or desire." He scoffed. "You'd be surprised." They discussed how different the city was beyond the main tourist attractions. Jon seemed thankful to live out of the most populated sections. "None of it is overly fun if you're by yourself. Plus, it's too highly populated for me. I don't come in here much on my days off. I want to switch off and not be Ambrose for a bit." Claire appreciated that. "Does that mean you want to head somewhere else?" she asked. He shook his head. "Not until you're done playing tourist," he chirped with a grin.

They found a sushi bar for a quick, and late, lunch. They discussed dinner plans, and Jon announced he had a favourite place across town he could make arrangements for. They returned to the house and sat on the sofa. Jon had asked Claire to see if there were any shows she was interested in seeing tonight. She was searching online and her options were limited. Most were sold out, and those which weren't didn't appeal to her. _Well, not enough to sacrifice a night in, anyway._ When she told Jon this, he seemed baffled. "You're telling me there's nothing? I swear I read about some dancing show a week or so back." She shook her head. "That doesn't matter, I've seen enough dancing shows in my life. I wouldn't make you suffer through one of those." His face softened as he sat beside her. "If you wanted to see it," he said, "I'd go. Who knows, I may end up enjoying myself." Claire laughed. "Doubtful." He shook his head. "Want to know something stalkery?" Her brow furrowed. _Where on earth is going with this?_ She looked at him keenly. "A few weeks ago, when I was missing you, I looked up your dancing on YouTube. I watched quite a few of them. You were really good, Claire." _Oh my god_. Her first reaction was one of embarrassment. Teenage Claire made some bad style choices, and bad fake tan choices. But after she'd thought about it, her heart warmed. _He was missing me. He wanted to see me. He looked me up on YouTube._ She felt her cheeks flush. This was equivalent to how she had downloaded a few pictures of him from Tumblr; ones that highlighted his eyes or smile. _Thank god for fangirls._

Jon got up and brought his iPad back to the sofa. He dialled up YouTube, and Claire shook her head. "No no no, don't you dare!" she said, pulling at his arm. "Wait, let me show you my favourite one!" he said, pulling the device away from her. "You can just tell me. I was there, you know, I'll remember it." He continued his search, and she watched him click on the video he wanted. She recognised the music as soon as it hit. It was the foxtrot she and Jack had performed at regional champs in sophomore year. She watched her younger self and Jack set out on a promenade, and turned away. _This is so awkward._ Jon placed his hand on her leg. "Look at you; you look so elegant in that dress. That's what I thought when I watched it. You looked like an entirely different person," he said, watching the clip through to the finish. "How the hell do you make your feet move that quickly?" he asked. "You want to see fast? Pass it here," she said, holding her hand out for the iPad. She searched for the cha cha they'd done at State Champs in her junior year. "This took us forever to learn, and we both almost flunked because of how much time we dedicated to it." The music began and after a short intro, she and Jack started moving. _I doubt I could still do that,_ she thought as she watched her feet move. She noticed the big spots they'd worked so hard on. They'd rehearsed them to overkill, but executed them to perfection. She had never felt more in control or in the zone on the floor. She noticed the smiles on their faces; that year had been fun and they had placed second in Latin at the competition. The hard work had paid off; juniors often didn't place at State.

"Look at you, you're loving it," he said, pausing the screen. Teenage Claire was playing to the crowd and judges. One hand was in the air and she was pouting sassily. "I really was," she said, reminiscing. "It was the best time of my life, those two years." Jon pushed play and let the dance finish. Claire could close her eyes and picture it. She and Jack were so elated they had nailed it. They high fived, she jumped into his arms and he had spun her around. He'd fist pumped to the small crowd and they made their way from the floor, running to their support crew. She could remember exactly what the buzz had felt like. There hadn't been a large number of people there, but almost everyone had given them a standing ovation. Despite knowing that very few people cared about high school dancesport, she had still felt on top of the world. "Do you miss it?" Jon asked, interrupting her reflection. She shrugged. "Sometimes I do. I miss the feeling of training hard for something and the pressure of perfection, but then smashing it out of the park. I really loved the friendship and teamwork I had with Jack. I trusted him and we had a lot of fun together." She paused. "Back then, I really loved that I could be someone else for a few minutes, it gave me an excuse to put on fancy dresses or put on an act. That was all part of working out who I was. But I don't think I'd enjoy it now." Jon was watching her intently. "Why not?" he enquired. "I didn't have life to worry about then. Now, I'm doing something I really enjoy and get to call it my job. I wouldn't have the time to dedicate to this. And I don't think I've got that kind of performative nature in me anymore. I loved having that spotlight for three to five minutes, but now, I've worked out I prefer being out of it."

Later, after dinner, they drove down the Strip again, so Claire could experience the lights and sights. She loved seeing it, and hoped that she would be invited back and could explore it another time. "They call New York the city that never sleeps, but I think that applies more here," Jon had said, shaking his head at a pack of drunk men piling out of a limo. "It's a Thursday night and they'll make just as much money tonight as they do on the weekends." Claire laughed. "Good on them," she said, watching as the group walked into a casino. "Everyone has to blow off steam somehow, right?"

They returned to Jon's house and Claire asked if he ever watched Smackdown. "Nope. I never watch any of my matches back unless something's gone wrong. Then I study it and work out how to be better next time. Do you watch it?" Claire nodded. "Not every week, but most weeks. I don't get to see what actually happens in the ring, I'm too busy running around trying to organise the next lot of shots. It's more that I have it on in the background while looking through the social feeds, so I know what people are reacting to when it happens." He shook his head. "You work too much," he said, pulling her into him. "I promise I relax too," she said, kissing him softly. A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "So, do you feel like relaxing at the moment?" he asked, placing kisses down her neck. She smirked. "That depends what my options are…" She trailed off as his hands found their way up under her top. Her hands dropped to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it from his waist. "Your options, I think," he said between kisses, "are if you're going to be on top or if I am." She let him pull her top over her head and unclasp her bra. "I have no preference," she said as he ran his hands up her stomach and grabbed at her chest. "Well then, you can lie back and relax and let me take care of everything," he suggested, as he pulled her towards the bedroom.

A/N: A special shoutout to StephLauren, who has been so wonderful with leaving reviews when I update. As my first fic I've often wondered if anyone else has been enjoying the story as much as I am, so it has been wonderful to get so much support from her! And to those favorting/following etc, I see you too – thank you.


	32. Working it out

The following morning, Claire and Jon were packing their suitcases for their flights to their respective house shows. Claire was feeling the effects of another late night. She had slept well; she'd just not got enough of it. Her leg muscles were a bit tight and her abs ached on certain angles, but she couldn't complain. She and Jon had made the most of their last night together, with memories she was sure she'd revisit over the coming days. She placed her suitcase by the door, next to his. "Do we really have to go?" she asked. He turned to her with a sad smile. "Yeah, unfortunately. You're always going on about not losing your job…" His arms slid around her and he looked down at her. "It's been awesome, just you and I." She nodded. "Thanks for inviting me." He squeezed her tightly. "Thanks for coming." _Thanks for making me,_ she thought, but decided not to say as he was clearly trying to be genuine.

"Same again next week?" he asked, his eyes full of hope. Claire sighed deeply. _How can you say no to that?_ "Look, it's not that I don't want to, not at all," she started, and noticed his face fall. "It's just that I've not been home in a few weeks, being in Wexford last week. I need to go home and do a few things. And get some different clothes!" He nodded, seemingly understanding that. "Well, why don't I come with you?" _Really?_ "Well, there's no reason why you can't. But you do remember that my entire place is the size of your living room, right? It's nothing like this," she said, beckoning back towards his living room. He placed one hand on her cheek. "Look at me. How many times am I going to have to tell you that I don't give a shit about the difference between what we earn? Jeez if we'd met while I was in the indies the shoe would have been on the other foot entirely. I do not care what your place looks like or how many rooms it has. If you're there, I want to be there." All the air in Claire's lungs rushed out of her. _Seriously? Is this the same guy everyone thinks is the biggest player in the game?_ "Then you're more than welcome," she said once her swooning had subsided. Jon smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "I better pack some more things then," he said, turning back to his room.

Just before they left the house for the car, they hugged for a long moment. "I don't want to let you go," Claire said. She felt his chuckle through his chest "Well that's reciprocated," he replied. They kissed tenderly, knowing it would be the last time for a few days, and when they were next together, there would prying eyes.

Claire landed in Springfield and found her way to the hotel. Lucy had been in touch saying her flight was delayed, which was great for Claire. She didn't have to make up any lies about different flights and time zones. She decided not telling the whole truth was different than lying. Lucy would no doubt ask her what she got up to over the last couple of days. Saying she went on a walk, spent some time in the city and watched a film was still accurate, she just didn't need to say that city was on the opposite side of the country from her house. _And I can say I spent a lot of time in bed. That is still true._

When Lucy arrived, she was not very well. Claire could tell from the moment she walked in. She looked terrible. "Oh Luce, you poor thing," she said, getting up off her bed. She took her bag from her, and Lucy collapsed on to the bed. "I feel like I've been hit by a train," she moaned. Claire felt so sorry for her; _everyone's been knocked out by a cold and knows that feeling_. "Can I get you anything?" she asked as Lucy closed her eyes. "No," Lucy replied, "I picked up a whole bunch of stuff at the airport." Claire didn't know what to do. "Look, I'll go downstairs and do all the show prep, okay. You get some sleep. Text me if you need or want anything." She picked up her notes and bag. "And think really hard about coming tonight. I'll totally vouch for you to Zee."

Claire had been working downstairs in the hotel bar for almost two hours when her phone beeped.  
 _You arrive safe and sound?_ Her heart flickered quickly just at seeing his name pop up on the screen. _  
\- Yeah. Lucy's flight was delayed, and she's got a terrible cold. She's in bed resting up and I'm doing the prep in the bar. She looks and sounds terrible.  
Oh that sucks. Guess you'll be running the ship on your own again then?  
\- I've told her that would probably be best, but we'll see how she's feeling.  
_A few minutes passed before his next reply.  
 _I've not been able to stop thinking about you.  
_ Claire smiled. She'd found her mind had drifted more than usual throughout the day as well. It was for the best they weren't on the same rotation, or she'd not get any work done.  
 _\- Same.  
\- I mean, you've been on my mind, not that I can't stop thinking about me.  
_She even managed to embarrass herself via text message. _What an exceptional talent I have._  
 _I got it. Gonna be lonely in this bed tonight…..  
\- Well, at least you've got a lot of memories in the storage bank…  
You got that right… Gotta go, meet and greet. Text me after your show. _

Lucy wasn't well enough to go to the show, and Claire made a point of texting Zane to back up the voicemail that Lucy had left him. He had called Claire back to confirm she was okay to handle the show on her own. "I've done it before, Zee, and it's not like I have a choice, right?" Zane told her what to prioritise if she couldn't get everything done, before leaving her with "I know you've got this." Claire agreed. She had run a whole weekend rotation on her own when she was still new on the road. She was almost excited to do it again.

Early Monday morning, Claire and Lucy travelled to St Louis on the staff bus, with Lucy spreading herself out over the back seat. She really wasn't well, and Claire doubted she'd be able to contribute much to RAW. When they arrived at the hotel, Lucy went straight to bed, and Claire spent some time in the café next door to the hotel, waiting for Jon to arrive. After an hour or so, she jumped when she received a text, thinking it would be him. It wasn't; it was Eden.  
 _Hey hun. Are you here yet? Coffee?  
\- Already on to it. In the café next door. Come over when you're free. _

Within ten minutes, Eden was sitting across from her. "I feel like we've not talked just you and me for a long time," she said after she'd ordered her drink. Claire nodded. It had been a while. "I've got to be honest with you about something," Eden said, looking sincere. Claire's interest piqued. "Okay, so last week, Mox told Cody that you were going to Vegas," Eden whispered. _He did?_ Claire felt her cheeks burn. "And of course, being married and what's mine is yours etc etc, Cody told me." Eden looked excited. "I, however, have not told anyone, but I have been dying to talk to you to hear about how it went. So?" Claire blinked blankly. "So?" _What does she want to know?_ "So," Eden began, "tell me! How did this come about? What does this mean? Are you actually going to give it a real shot?"

Claire sighed. She knew she had to ask herself these same things, but had been putting it off to avoid having to be an adult. Right now, she was just enjoying herself. "I've not really thought about anything long term. All I know is that he has been lovely, and when he asked me to go, I couldn't say no. We had a great time, and I feel like I know him even better now." Eden nodded and slid a hand across the table to cover hers. "That's awesome, honey. It really is. You know I care about you, and I care about him too. If he's deciding you're the one, then I think he'll do you right." _Woah, wait a minute._ "It's a bit early for that, don't you think?" Eden shrugged. "I'm just saying, in all our years of knowing him, he's not taken a girl home before. You must be doing something right." She paused. "And so must he, to have won you over." She winked quickly. A few moments of silence passed, before Eden leaned across the table. "So, not to pry, and I don't want details, but did you….?" Claire's face burned again. "Yes." Eden smiled mischievously. Claire felt herself laugh. "Several times," she added quietly. Eden chuckled. "Yeah, you did! Good for you, girl," and she leaned across to give Claire a soft high five. They both giggled. "I pinky swear," Eden said, extending her finger, "that I won't tell anyone. I know how much you want to keep it on the down low for now." Claire trusted her anyway, but extended her own finger. "Do you think that's kind of pointless now, though?" she asked genuinely. "I think everyone in our group knows something is going on, if not what exactly." Eden cocked her head to consider this. "No, I think you do what you've got to do. All in your own time, honey."

At the planning meeting, Zane was in a flap about Lucy's illness. He had to reallocate matches on the fly and Carl picked up most of Lucy's work. "So I've got two workloads now?" Carl moaned under his breath. Zane heard him, however. "Yes, you do, Carl, and if you have a problem with it, just let me know. Claire managed to do both house shows on her own over the weekend, so if you're not man enough to step up, just let me know and I'll give it to her." Claire's eyes widened and a few people in the room looked between her and Carl. She shrugged innocently at Carl, who looked furious that Zane had called him out like that. But, at least as far as Claire thought, he didn't seem to be angry with her. _Maybe he's extra uptight because he won't be getting any tonight._ As soon as she'd thought that, she chastised herself. _We're not meant to be caring about each other's personal lives,_ she thought about her brief flare up with Lucy.

RAW always passed by quickly, but this week, with one member of the team down, it was over before Claire knew it. She bumped into Eden after the show and asked her what the plans were for tonight. Eden hadn't made any plans, and she suggested that maybe she and Cody should stay in tonight. "And that would, you know, totally free you up for the evening. And Mox…." Eden added with a wink. Claire tried to act like she was insulted but inside she was excited by the outcome. "Have fun," Eden whispered as she sauntered away, a cheeky grin on her face. Claire sent Jon a text to say she'd meet him in his room after a shower.  
\- _Don't bother showering. You're only going to end up needing another one…._  
She felt a twitch between her legs and tried to snap herself back into work mode.

After returning to the hotel room with a pizza for Lucy, Claire said she was heading out. "What are the plans?" Lucy asked, her voice nasal and gruff. _Time for another 'not quite the truth' moment._ "I don't think anything has been arranged, so we might just meet up and see what's around," Claire said, trying not to make eye contact with her. Lucy thanked her for the pizza, and said she'd be knocked out with tablets when she returned, so she would see her in the morning. _Excellent,_ Claire thought. _This couldn't be going better._

Jon's hotel room door hadn't even closed before he'd pulled her into his chest. "Do you know how f**king hard it was to see you running around backstage and not be able to touch you?" He kissed her hard, and felt her sink into him. "Especially after being on my own in my head these past few nights." He picked her up off the ground as they kissed and then placed her back down gently. "Sorry, just had to get that out of my system," he laughed. "How was your night?" Claire told him about who she was allocated, and then went over Carl and Zane's discussion in the meeting. "Sounds to me like those two just have to punch it out," he replied. "And I'm glad he didn't give Lucy's work to you. You need some time to catch your breath after the weekend." They had curled up on the bed and she asked him about his match, before complimenting his promo.

Claire stretched out on the bed, looking cutely comfortable. "You sleepy?" he asked her. "No, I've caught up on sleep over the weekend. Although I am glad I can stop using my brain for the rest of the night." She smiled and he felt a swell in his chest. _How can she get me with just that smile?_ He leaned across to kiss her, softly at first, as he acknowledged she said she was feeling beat. But within moments her tongue was flicking against his, her fingers were in his hair and her pelvis was moving against his. "Guess you're not sleepy," he commented, pulling her on top of him. She shook her head. "Far from it," she said between kisses. "I don't know how you've done it, Jonny, but I can't get enough of you." A spark ran through him, from his chest to his cock, and he didn't know which end felt better. _She's feeling it too,_ he thought. _Whatever the hell this, she can't explain it any better than I can._ He let her scoot down her body and open his fly. He helped her wriggle his pants off him and watched as she took him into her hands. It had only been a couple of days but he'd been longing for her touch. He'd tried himself Saturday night and while he'd finished the job, it definitely came up short compared to how she'd made him feel. Her lips wrapped around his tip and he felt himself become fully hard. _F**k her mouth feels good._ He started to wonder how many other guys she'd been with, but quickly diverted away from that before jealousy could override the pleasure. _Plus, if either of us is going to have a problem about sexual histories, I think she has more right than I do._ He let his head fall back against the pillow and gave in to Claire's mouth and hand.

Later, as they were cuddled up together in differing states of undress, Claire turned to him and asked "What do you think we should tell people?" This caught him by surprise. He knew she wasn't wanting to shout things from the rooftops until she was certain he'd proved himself. _Does she believe I'm good enough for her? Because I'm still not sure I am._ "What do you mean?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. "Well, we probably need to think about what we want to tell people, because I'm not sure I can hide this anymore." Jon felt a throb in his chest. She continued. "I don't want you to feel that I'm keeping you a secret, that I'm ashamed of this. That's not the case at all." He took her hand. "I know it's not," he told her, using his free hand to stroke her hair. "And even if it was, it's my fault for having a lousy reputation." She adjusted herself to look at him properly. "I'm not saying we need to decide right this instant, but just planting a seed, that's all. I mean Lucy, Eden, Cody, Roman, Dolph… They all know something is up, to varying degrees. And I reckon somewhere along the way, the rest of them will figure it out. Especially if I can't stop looking at you." She smiled and Jon felt his head spin. He'd never had a conversation like this before. He was thankful she didn't want an answer immediately. "Okay, I'll have a think, but I reckon given your job, we'll work something out when you think the time is right." He kissed her gently and held her tight against him, letting his mind replay her words.

 _Does this mean I'm going to be in a committed relationship?_


	33. Home comforts

The tension between Zane and Carl had dissipated by the time the team had their RAW recap meeting the following day. Lucy had recovered well enough to be given allocations for Smackdown, and the meeting passed smoothly. Zane briefly mentioned that he was reconsidering allocations for the house show rotations, and Claire hoped she had done enough to be switched back to cover the opposite schedule. While Zane talked the team through the engagement report she had helped him prepare that morning, Claire's mind wandered to what Jon was doing. _Infatuation stage_ , she sighed. And that was definitely true. After putting up resistance for a while, he had bulldozed through that, and now he was all she could think about. She thought ahead to their downtime together over the next two days; the sights and sounds of suburban Stamford didn't match Las Vegas, not by a long shot. Still, he seemed to understand her studio would be small and cosy, so perhaps he'd understand if their two days were slightly boring also. _Unless we spend most of it in bed_... And the way things had gone over the last week, the chances of that were pretty high.

Claire had been allocated to the Authority on Smackdown, who were involved in almost half of the storylines in one way or another. Zane had told her while they had assembled the report that this was been at the request of Stephanie. "I think you've got a fan," he'd told her. Claire had tried to contain a proud grin at the time. However, throughout the show there was no indication of favouritism from Stephanie or Hunter. They chatted through the script and content options with Claire as usual. They certainly paid no special attention to her when filming their segment with Dean Ambrose. Claire had stood behind the steady cam and taken shots to use online. When they cut, Stephanie asked Jon if he wanted to review the images Claire had taken. "Not really. Still not interested in social media. That's why you hire the pros like Chloe here, right?" Claire tried to hide her smirk as he left the room nonchalantly. _Playing your part perfectly, boy_.

After the show, Claire met Jon in his locker room as arranged. "Hey Chloe," he said, pulling her into his arms. She smiled. "You should've seen Stephanie's face. She apologized to me, saying it was rude and that they'll have to address talent-staff relations." Jon lowered his lips to hers. "I think our relations are just fine." They made their way to the parking lot, with Claire picking up her bags from the storage room on the way, and jumped in a waiting cab to the airport.

They had just completed their check in and were making their way towards security when Claire heard her name. She turned to see Lucy leaning against her suitcase, her eyebrows raised suggestively. "Oh hey Ambrose," she said, exaggerating his name. "It's Jon," he said patiently "Are you feeling any better?" he asked her. Lucy's lips narrowed momentarily before she replied. "Well I thought I was, but I'm thinking the hallucinations might be coming back again. I swear I saw the gate for Vegas was that way," she said pointedly, beckoning in the other direction. Claire felt her nostrils flare slightly. She could feel Jon looking at her, probably trying to gauge her reaction. As Claire opened her mouth to reply, Lucy cut her off. "Anyway, I know for certain my gate is that way, so I better fly. Literally. I'll see you Saturday." With a final terse glance at Jon, she pulled on her suitcase and walked away.

Jon turned to Claire. "Is she always like that, or can we blame the drugs?" he asked. Claire rolled her eyes as Lucy disappeared into the crowd. "She's just been in a mood recently. Being sick wouldn't have helped. Plus she probably didn't get any this round so she'll be extra touchy." _I shouldn't have said that_. Jon cocked his head. "What? Is she known for getting stuck in on tour?" Claire wished she'd not brought it up, but she could sense he wanted an answer. "It's not as bad as you think, okay? She and Carl, they have an arrangement." Jon's mouth morphed into a wicked grin. "Is that right? Wow, never saw that coming." Claire shook her head. "Neither did I. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Please? She and I had a bit of a flare up about things and decided that for the sake of our friendship and our jobs that we're not allowed to pass comment on each other's choices. Promise me Jon, you'll not mention it to anyone?" she asked, hoping her seriousness was portrayed in her eyes. He nodded. "I promise," he replied, genuinely. A few moments passed before he added "But can you honestly tell me that she'll keep her mouth shut about this?" Claire pondered that, and despite knowing what she wanted to believe, she left his question unanswered. _I sure hope so..._

************************************

They arrived at Claire's place in the small hours of Wednesday morning. The entire flight, while Jon got some shuteye, she had been wound up about Lucy and her accusing tone. She had tried to shrug it off when they landed; trying to have a clean slate and be excited for another 'weekend' with Jon, but the calm didn't last long. Claire was hoping she'd left her place in a decent state when she'd last left it three weeks ago. She was anxious about how Jon would react to her living arrangement anyway without it being a mess. She needn't have worried, as once they'd walked up the stairs and through the door, Jon collapsed on the bed with hardly a glimpse at anything else. "I'm shattered," he said, undressing and getting under the covers. "Can the tour wait til the morning?" Claire smiled. "Of course," she returned, quickly brushing her teeth and settling in beside him. He rolled over and slung an arm across her waist, and within minutes, was snoring softly. Claire stared at the roof, herself feeling utterly exhausted, but unable to turn her mind off. She was happy to be next to Jon again, to have two whole days with him with no need to watch her step. So why was it grating her so much that Lucy had seen them together?

When they woke up, it was raining, and Claire cuddled into Jon's chest. She loved hearing the rain fall on the tin roof while she relaxed in bed, and this time was even better with someone to curl up with. Jon spoke up. "You could pretty much give me the tour from here," he chuckled. It was true; from the bed, you could see everything she owned, except for what was in the bathroom. The studio included a very small but fully-functional kitchen, a round dining table, a small sofa, a chest of drawers and clothing rack in lieu of a closet. "It's small, but when you only spend two days a week here, you don't need anything else. Especially financially," Claire replied. Jon put his hand softly on her hair. "Yeah, I know. I agree, which is why my place is nothing like Cena's... It's too big just for me as is. Anyway, you've made it really cosy. I like it. It's you." Claire smiled. She was glad he agreed; it didn't make sense to live anywhere else at this stage of her life.

A few moments passed before Claire raised a topic she'd had on her mind for a few days. "So, Valentine's Day is this weekend..." She felt a small laugh through Jon's chest. "Yes, yes it is." There was a patch of silence before Claire continued. "Do you, you know, go big on Valentine's Day?" She felt foolish bringing this up, but she'd wondered for days about how they'd approach it in their situation. She sure as hell didn't want him to make a big fuss if she didn't. _Best to make expectations entirely clear_. "I'm not a massive Valentines guy, no. I've never had to be." Claire winced. _That was a stupid thing to ask, Claire_. "Anyway, you know what I'm like with emotions and stuff." Okay, message received. "Okay, so we'll just settle on no grand gestures then?" she asked cautiously. He smirked. "Sure, no grand gestures. I'll settle for a call from you, and a promise to see me the following night." They locked eyes. "I think that can be arranged," she said, kissing him, feeling his hand travel up the back of her thigh and resting on her butt. "We could always celebrate early," he suggested, and in seconds he'd flipped her on to her back, laying kisses down her neck.

It was after 1pm before they left the house. They'd lazed around in bed for a while, before Claire had done some laundry and organized her errands. They went to the local mall, where Claire took care of a few things, and they stopped for a meal. Even on a grey and rainy day Jon had his sunglasses on, and Claire felt sorry for him that he could never really switch off unless he was indoors. She told him so. "It's part of what you sign up for," he told her. Claire thought about that. To a point, he was right, however they didn't sign up to be followed and stalked, snapped and interrupted when they were off the clock. But she knew it would be naive to think that people wouldn't approach them. "I don't mind it most of the time," Jon continued, "but there's a time and a place. Like airport lounges, sure, I ain't got much else to do. But right now, when I'm having a meal and private conversation, I'd rather not. But you say no and people get bitchy. Have a whinge on Twitter about it, next thing Hunter's telling you to play ball. Can't wait to be a heel so people hate me." Claire couldn't help but laugh, but she still sympathized with him. "So, a quiet night in then? Netflix and chill?" she suggested, and he nodded. "Anywhere I'm not interrupted from you is perfect." He didn't get Claire's attempted joke; not being on social media he probably missed a lot of pop culture references.

When they arrived back at Claire's place, Mrs Allen was just getting into her car. "Oh Claire, honey. I was hoping to see you. It's been too long," she said, wrapping her arms around Claire. She looked at Jon and smiled politely. "Oh who is your friend?" Claire watched warmly as Jon extended his hand. "My name is Jon, Mrs Allen. I work with Claire. So nice to meet you. Claire speaks very highly of you," he said in his sweetest voice. _Charmer_ , Claire thought, trying to contain her smirk. Mrs Allen seemed impressed. "Lovely to meet you Jon, I am glad Claire has made a friend. She seems to work too hard." She saw the sideways smirk appear on his face. "She sure does," he replied. Mrs Allen asked what cities they'd been in this week, how Claire's time in Wexford was and how old her nephews were again. "Anyway, I must keep moving. We have gardening club inside at Vera's today." As she walked back to her car, she raised her voice slightly. "I made you a blueberry pie honey, it's on the stairs."

They spent their evening watching episodes of TV shows they both grew up on, while Claire prepared beef salad tacos for dinner, washed down with Mrs Allen's homemade pie. "You sure got it made here," Jon said, licking his lips. "Now I know why you wanted to come home this week!" Their tummies full, they settled in for a night of old school television. Claire was impressed that they managed to get through four episodes of MASH before hands started to wander. Before she knew it, Jon had stripped her naked without removing any clothes of his own. As she attempted to reposition herself to rectify that, he moved quicker, grabbing hold of her waist pulling her on top of him, straddling his chest. With a heated look in his eye, he slowly inched his way down the bed, until his head was positioned directly underneath her. Claire felt a smirk rise on her face. _He certainly knows how to keep things interesting..._

She relaxed and closed her eyes, giving into the pleasure of his tongue. It has been a long time since someone had made her feel this desirable, this confident, this... sexy. And even though they had spent a lot of time doing this over the past week, she still felt Jon was in it for more than this. _He wouldn't come to Connecticut just for sex when he could get this anywhere he goes._ His hands clamped onto her hips and pulled her tightly down on top of his mouth. He sucked on her gently and she couldn't help but moan, forgetting all about what Jon was in it for. 


	34. Animated arguments

When Claire arrived at the hotel on Saturday morning, Lucy was already in their room, lying back scrolling through her phone. Claire had been thinking about how to approach talking to her. She didn't know if she should address Lucy's attitude at the airport a few days ago, or if she should just leave it. Of course, Lucy was the one to address things directly. "So how was your lovers weekend?" she asked with a smirk on her face. Claire's brow furrowed; any animosity from Lucy's voice on Tuesday night had disappeared, now replaced by cheeky curiosity. "It was great, thank you. Got all my errands done, watched some television, had a nice meal together. Yesterday we played mini putt and went swimming." She watched Lucy nod innocently, before saying "And what else? You only have one bed, you can't tell me he slept on the couch." Claire huffed as she threw her work clothes on the bed. "What does that matter, Luce? Yes, we slept together. In all meanings of the term. In the same bed and we had sexual intercourse." Lucy baulked at the term, which is exactly what Claire intended. She wanted her to feel uncomfortable about asking too much. "Calm down, I was just trying to be friendly. Girls talk about that kind of stuff, you know." Claire was too worked up to accept her semi-apology. "Ordinarily I'd agree, but all you've done is criticise Jon from the moment you found out we were getting to know each other. Plus, you've kept your liaisons with Carl a secret from everyone for months. So we don't really talk about it, do we?" Claire could feel her hands getting clammy. She didn't like arguing with anyone, especially Lucy.

Lucy threw her arms down against the bed in frustration. "Well then, what do you want to know? That Carl has a pretty big dick? He may not know how to use it, but I do all the work anyway so that doesn't matter. That his endurance could use some work?. That his favourite position is doggy? That he is now trying to get me to agree to not using protection? What do you want to know, Claire?" Claire shook her head. "Stop it, I don't care," she said, staring at Lucy. "And I think that's the difference. I simply do not care who you sleep with so long as it's all consensual. And I think you'd do well to allow me the same courtesy." There was silence for a moment and Claire feared Lucy's response. She could get nasty here if she wanted. "Okay, I will," Lucy replied. "But, you've got to admit that there's not a woman in this company who wouldn't want to know what the Titty Master is like in bed." Claire kept her lips sealed. She wasn't confident she could ever win in a war of words against Lucy's sharp tongue, but right now she felt like she'd got the better of her. "Come on, Claire," Lucy willed. "Just give me something. Can you tell he's…..experienced? Does he have any go to moves?" Claire closed her eyes in disbelief. _Why won't she drop it?_ Lucy continued. "I have this vision in my head that he'd say "I learned this from a chick in Boston" then introduce some weird, kinky shit." Claire threw a pair of socks at her. "Leave it alone, Lucy." Lucy chuckled. "So he is freaky!" "He is not!" Claire protested, probably too strongly. "He's got the standard range of moves in his arsenal. He is nothing like you think he is." Lucy cooed sarcastically. "Jon Good, the caring, attentive lover. Always ensures you finish before he does, I'm sure." Claire gave her a long stare before going to have a shower, just to create some space.

Claire was glad to have reports to write and hashtags to catch up on. She took herself to a café down the road and analysed data. Carl had sent her an email asking for specific stats on content sharing, and she worked on a report from Thursday's Smackdown airing. Her phone lit up, showing a text message from Eden:  
 _Thought I'd let you know – just saw Mox get propositioned by two girls wearing not a heck of a lot. Seen him take up similar offers in the past. This time, it was a polite 'no thanks'. Wonder what's gotten into him….?  
_ Claire felt a warm wave rush through her body. He'd not given her a reason to wonder what he got up to when she wasn't around, but she can't say it hadn't crossed her mind. She did find comfort in the fact that Eden and Cody were on his rotation, and would let her know if anything happened, but at the same time, she knew they didn't watch him every moment. Part of her still thought that one day soon, he might get over her and her regular, run of the mill life; her thick legs and boring chest. And it wouldn't be any fault of his own. It wasn't a slight on him; she consistently doubted that she was enough for someone like him when he could have anyone he wanted to. He certainly was not short of offers. _Eden must sense that unease_ , she thought. She was thankful she'd sent her that message. It brought a bit of peace to her after a frustrating morning with Lucy.

Despite their earlier altercation, Lucy and Claire worked well together at the show. They'd settled into a pattern for house shows; Claire would prep reports, storylines and content and Lucy would happily oblige. If it meant she had more time out shopping or watching television, Lucy didn't mind following Claire's instruction. The weather was poor after the show so the girls settled for watching a _16 and Pregnant_ marathon in their room, with room service dessert. "No matter what we've got wrong in our lives," Lucy said, "at least we didn't get knocked up at high school." Claire agreed. _Life would be much, much different._ Despite tensions between them, the girls had settled into a comfortable silence. However, it didn't go unnoticed that Lucy was rolling her eyes each time Claire's phone vibrated with a message from Jon. Of course, she didn't know who the sender was but Claire knew the frequency and look on her face weren't hiding anything. But, to her credit, Lucy didn't bring it up. _It's a shame she doesn't have this with Carl,_ Claire thought to herself. _Or anyone. Maybe that's why she's so shitty about it. She's jealous. Not of Jon, but of the connection._ Claire tossed that concept around in her head for the rest of the night, before the girls turned the light out relatively early.

Having just the one show on their rotation this weekend, Claire and Lucy lazed around on Sunday morning before packing in time for check out. Claire always took longer than Lucy, who threw all her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it up. Claire would re-fold everything, spreading things out over her bed and putting the worn clothes in at the bottom, so fresh things were readily available for tomorrow. Lucy, as always, huffed and puffed in frustration while begging Claire to hurry up. The girls had been allocated a rental car this weekend to drive the five hours to the next town for RAW tomorrow. They would be sharing with the merchandise team, and Lucy wanted to be get downstairs early to ensure she was sitting in the front seat. "Hang on, I'm almost done," Claire said, putting her used underwear in a plastic bag. She always kept her worn underwear separate from the rest of her clothes, folding them flat and keeping them in the zip pocket inside the lid of her suitcase. She opened the zipper and tried to stuff the plastic bag flat against the lid, but felt something resist her. She put her hand in the pocket and pulled out a large envelope. Her brow furrowed as she opened it. "What's that?" Lucy asked, watching her. Claire shrugged, and pulled out a softcover notebook. The pages were filled with drawings; rough pencil sketches. A single piece of yellow paper dropped from between the pages, and Lucy moved quicker than Claire did. She grabbed it off the floor and stood back from Claire, reading it out aloud. "A glimpse inside my head. Thanks for the smiles. Happy Valentine's Day, Claire. Jonny." Claire snatched the paper from Lucy's hand, as Lucy started questioning if she really called him Jonny. Claire tuned her out. She re-read the messy scrawl on the paper. _That's his handwriting, for sure._

She turned back to the notebook, starting from the beginning. The first drawing saw a rough sketch of a person, a man, sitting on a chair. His hair was ragged underneath a cap. There was a dark, haphazard scribble of pencil around his head and a terse look on his face. She turned the page. The next drawing, the man was again sitting, this time with others in what looked like a bowling alley. There was a woman standing holding a bowling ball, with long hair. She was smiling, and around her head were soft lines, as if she was radiating light. The other people in the picture were just bodies; they didn't have any facial features. The two people who did, the woman holding the bowling ball and the man sitting in the chair, were where the viewer's eyes were drawn. The man still had some scribble surrounding his head, but it wasn't as aggressive or dark as it had been on the first page. "Is that meant to be you?" Claire heard Lucy's voice pierce her thoughts. "It looks nothing like you. He's certainly not an artist." Claire looked sideways at her quickly, then back to the notebook. It was true, the pictures weren't the best animations she'd ever seen, but she had the feeling the story they told was more important. She flicked the page. Another drawing of the man and the lady, this time playing table hockey. The next, they were seated at a table at a restaurant. In the following picture, they were watching a movie. In each drawing, the glow around the woman got brighter and more exaggerated, and the darkness over the man's head lifted, until it was completely gone. Claire continued through the book, and recognised moments they'd shared together: a rooftop conversation; their hike in Georgia; the hot tub; the man was shown with a thought bubble replaying their first kiss; Claire wearing Eden's dress; him singing to her in that terrible bar; sharing pancakes in a hotel room; watching a sunrise; cuddling in bed. Claire sat down on the bed and looked through them all again. _I can't believe this,_ she thought to herself. _He remembers all these moments._

Lucy, who had been peering over her shoulder, took the book out of her hands, and looked through the drawings herself. Claire initially felt protective of it and wanted to grab it back, but decided Lucy should see it. "Now do you get it? He's not just after one thing, not anymore," Claire said softly. She couldn't possibly hold any anger in her heart after it had just melted. "You need to start giving him some credit, Luce." She heard Lucy sigh, and she again wondered if she was jealous of their relationship. "I'll admit, this is pretty sweet. He did good. But I'm more concerned about how many times you must've lied to me to do all of these things with him," she said in a jovial, joking tone. Claire elbowed her, and took the notebook from her, thumbing through the pages once more. She settled on the last image; the man pushing the woman on a swing. _That was Thursday just gone,_ she thought. _He must've been drawings these in Stamford!_ The glow which in previous pictures had radiated from the woman's head was now so large it encompassed the man entirely, and both figures had wide grins on their faces. _Thanks for the smiles,_ Claire repeated to herself. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. It may not have been the traditional Valentine's gift of roses, chocolate or jewellery, but it was certainly the best she'd ever received. She held the book close to her chest for a moment, before placing it carefully back inside the envelope and into the suitcase.

The girls headed downstairs to their rental car, and Claire tried hard to reign in the smile on her face. Lucy pointed this out. She shrugged off the comment. "That's scary that he put something in your suitcase without you knowing," Lucy added. "If it was contraband, you'd be going to prison." Claire scoffed. "Give it up, Luce," she said flatly. "You're sounding desperate now. You've just got to admit he's a nice guy, and, shock horror, might even have a bit of romance in him, albeit unconventional." Lucy had no comeback, and Claire was satisfied she'd been able to shut her up. Not even the fact she had to be squished in the back for the drive to RAW could sour her mood. She rested her head back against the seat, pulled her knit hat low over her eyes and recalled Jon's drawings _A glimpse inside his head, he said. It's me. I'm inside his head._ She felt herself smirking, but at that moment, she didn't care who noticed.


	35. Changes

Monday morning , Claire was all over the place. She was glad she'd told Jon on the phone last night that she wouldn't have the chance to see him until after the show. She hit the pool early, accompanied Paige on a morning radio tour, where they visited five stations in two hours. Upon her return, Zane summoned her to the hotel café where they went over stats from the two house show rotations and he asked her about workloads between herself and Lucy. Claire had been honest and said they'd found a formula which worked for them, and she'd noted him scribble down a few of her words along the way. She only assumed it had more to do with whatever tensions were between him and Carl than it did about her and Lucy. Following their one on one meeting, they went straight into the planning meeting with creative, where she was allocated the opening and closing of show, meaning she would be working with Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose, Brock Lesnar and the Authority. It would be another busy show for her. The comms team jumped on a bus to the venue, and Carl sat behind Claire and Lucy, talking about the high engagement stats his Snapchats had received over the weekend. Claire smirked to herself. She knew it was her research and persistence which had helped the team buy in to Snapchat. It was now their third highest performing platform. _Just make them believe it was their idea,_ she joked to herself.

During the show, she didn't have the chance to be alone with Jon. Initially, Zane shadowed her to get the pre-shots, knowing that with so many people involved in the opening segment,she may need some help. Again, Jon played his part perfectly, not showing Claire too much attention. Roman had stood with an amused smirk on his face as he'd watched the whole interaction, and Claire had to bite her cheek to hold in a grin of her own. _Crazy that we're all pretending,_ she thought. The shoot went by without a hint of anything out of the ordinary, and Claire and Zane moved on to find Stephanie and Hunter.

Later, after the opening segment had been and gone, and Claire had posted all the content required, she had shrugged Zane off and head to Jon's locker room. Roman was in there too, and they were walking through the minor altercation they'd be having later. "Hey there, stranger," Roman laughed. "Are you sure you're allowed in here? No one's going to know?" Claire rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know I have to arrange shots for the final segment, so this is a business visit, I'm afraid." Jon had stepped in behind her, groaned audibly in joke frustration, and slipped his hands around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder and Claire felt him release a small sigh. _Me too,_ she thought. Roman looked at them and smiled, followed by a small nod. "You've got him, good, girl," he said, picking up his phone from the bench beside him. Jon placed a quick kiss on her cheek and squeezed her tightly, before Claire set about asking them what they wanted to do as coverage for the final segment.

During the close of the show, Claire was watching backstage when she saw Jon go flying between the ropes. Dean Ambrose did this all the time, but she hardly ever saw it as she was always moving on to the next thing. For now, she was waiting on the match and following altercation to finish before she could take post-shots, and found herself able to watch the show. She and Lucy were sitting out the back amongst other staff watching as Jon soared between the ropes and knocked Lesnar off his feet. He'd launched himself with such power that he continued on into the barricade, shoulder first. He hit it with such force it moved backwards into the crowd by a foot. Everyone in the back let out a groan when they saw it again on the replay. Claire felt her pulse quicken slightly, but relaxed as Jon got to his feet and continued. She wasn't sure if his painful grimace was legitimate or really good selling, but he worked the sore shoulder into all of his spots for the rest of the match.

When the guys retuned out the back, Claire wrangled Roman and Jon and took them to the spot they'd wanted for their post-shots. Jon was still cradling his arm. "Are you alright?" she asked him, trying not to sound too concerned. "No major damage," he replied. "It's in, it's just a bit unhappy." She suggested they get a doctor to look over him. He frowned, but she explained it was mainly for the benefit of social media. "We've got to sell it too, you know," she said, and he reluctantly agreed. She took the required post-shots of Roman and walked with Jon to the medical room, where they were fortunate to catch the team before they had packed up. Claire explained that while it was purely for content purposes, the doctor should still go through all the checks to make the moment more legitimate. _Plus it will ease my mind._ The doctor said the joint seemed bruised, and recommended icing it throughout the night, but didn't expect any major damage. Jon scoffed, and Claire had to hide her smile that she'd got what she wanted, and lured both him and the doctor into appeasing her.

"I don't want to go out tonight," Jon said as they walked down the hallway. "This hurts like a bitch after his prodding and poking. I just want to chill at the hotel. Want to join me?" Claire said yes straight away; she had wanted to spend the night with him anyway, to thank him for the Valentine's gift, to spend time with him after being away from him over the weekend, and now, she wanted to look after him. To make sure he iced it every half hour like the doctor told him. If they went out, he definitely wouldn't be doing that, and she knew he wouldn't do it if he was on his own either. Claire flicked a text message to Eden to let her know her plans. Within minutes, she had a reply.  
 _Ooooh, sexy nurse role play! Have fun! (But seriously, hope he's not too bad).  
_ Claire smirked and told Jon she'd meet him in his room after Lucy had gone out. He laughed. "Do we know what her plans are? Is she going out with the group or going to get Carl to scratch her itch?" Claire shot him a look. "Shhh. We're not meant to be passing judgement, remember?" They shared a smile, and Jon squeezed her hands gently before she headed for the staff bus back to the hotel.

/

Claire sat on the edge of Jon's hotel bed, with him on the floor. She had held the ice against his AC joint for ten minutes, and put it back in the freezer ready for the next round. She ran her fingers gently over the reddened skin, and kissed it softly. "All better," she joked. They were watching a hockey replay, and Claire started massaging other areas of his sore shoulder. He flinched slightly. "Sorry," she said, dropping her hands to her lap. "No, no, it's good. It's that good type of ouch," he said, and she raised her hands to his shoulder blade. While she gently worked her thumbs over knots she could feel in his muscles, they chatted casually. After a while, she said "This can be my Valentine's Day gift to you, a deep tissue massage, although I still think I'd be in debt." Jon's shoulders raised in a laugh, and he winced quickly. "If I had a choice, I'd prefer a different type of massage," he said, rolling his head back as Claire moved her thumbs up his neck. "One that wasn't so tender. And besides, you don't owe me anything." Claire shook her head. "Yes I do. I know you don't care about our imbalance, and I'm trying hard not to either. But we had agreed nothing major for Valentine's Day and then you pull out the sweetest gift I've ever had! I've got to make it up somehow." Jon shook his head. "We only made that agreement after I'd already started drawing, and I had them with me when we had that conversation. I was hardly going to throw it out." Claire let her head hang in acceptance. "No, I guess not. But I'm hardly going to not give you anything in return." Jon twisted his body awkwardly so they were looking at each other. "Stop that. You don't know what you give me. It's more than what I give you, whether you choose to believe that or not." There was a sincerity in his eyes so strong that Claire dare not challenge it. She felt that familiar swoon creep up from her chest and articulate itself in a smile on her face. He returned it, then shuffled back to face the television. Claire continued rubbing his shoulder, thinking over the implications of what he'd just said.

/

Tuesday morning, Lucy and Claire awoke to an email from Zane, telling the comms team that their team meeting would be taking place in a room at the venue in the next town, and their bus would be leaving two hours earlier than scheduled. Claire went for a quick swim and text Jon to tell him they could no longer sneak in a room service breakfast as planned. The girls packed up their things and headed down to the bus. "Where'd you end up last night?" Claire asked genuinely, referring to the group. Lucy looked at her questioningly. "I probably ended up doing the same thing you ended up doing last night," she said in a cheeky tone. Claire scoffed. "Oh, so you iced and massaged an injured shoulder too?" Lucy rolled her eyes. "I bet you did more than massage his shoulder…." Claire laughed. "Hand on my heart, there was no R18 action. He was genuinely sore and tired. I think I was back in the room by 1, which was two hours before you." Lucy didn't have a reply. Claire thought she'd try her luck. "Do you feel he kicks you out all the time, or do you think you'd be welcome to stay the whole night more often than you do?" Lucy shook her head. "Why would I want to? Carl can be a jerk, Claire, you've felt the brunt of that yourself. Most of the time he has no reason to be. So yeah, while we mess around and help each other out, I don't necessarily want to spend more time with him than I need to." Claire nodded, and decided to drop it. _I'm not sure I could do that, sleep with someone with no strings. Especially if I had to work with them._

/

Zane was holding court at the head of the meeting room. He had reviewed the stats report Claire had worked on during their bus trip, and reported the best performing posts of the night. As usual, the team went over the Main Event and Smackdown scripts and were allocated their storylines for the night. Claire was going to continue her work with the Authority. She enjoyed being able to work closely with Stephanie, and continue telling stories, but she also wished she had another storyline to follow as well, just for some variety. She didn't want anyone to think she was becoming the Authority's personal social media bitch. Plus she had shown through the house show rotations she'd done on her own that she was capable of having a few balls in the air. _Speaking of,_ she thought to herself. Zane was meant to be introducing the new rotation schedules in this meeting. She willed internally she'd be back on the other rotation with Jon. She'd done all she could to show Zane she was good at her job, but she had no idea what direction he wanted to take the staffing.

After all the storylines had been discussed and allocated, the creative team left the room, leaving Zane with just his digital communications team. "Here we go," whispered Lucy in Claire's direction. She looked serious; slightly concerned. Claire pondered why this would be. If Lucy changed rotations, she'd be with Carl. Despite what she'd said about him being a jerk, she must like him in some way or they'd not be sleeping together. They'd have even more opportunity for that if they changed her schedule. _Unless she wants us to stay a team._ Claire hadn't even entertained that. She'd been too selfishly thinking about what she wanted out of the changes, not what Lucy wanted.

Zane wasn't one to beat around the bush, and launched straight into it. "In a decision forced upon me from the powers that be, I've decided to make some changes to the rotations. You all know HQ are putting pressure on all departments. You've seen it in the costume teams, the merchandise team, and why we staff have to bus from town to town while talent fly. They left us out for a while given the focus on digital over the last year, and I honestly didn't know how we'd be able to continue to deliver all they wanted from us if they cut our resources. But, after I've seen Claire run two house show rotations on her own, and not drop her standards, I know that it's possible, if we take advantage of planning. With that in mind, we've made the decision to have Claire take A rotation, and Lucy will stay on B. We won't have a website specialist on house show trips any longer, the social media team will be responsible for writing and posting a wrap for the website and app. It puts some pressure on the individuals involved, but I believe that we'll be able to pull it off if we buy in." Claire felt a small buzz run through her stomach. She was going to be back on the road with Jon. _Seeing him five days a week rather than two._ She sucked her lips in gently to avoid smiling. This was a tough call on a few in the room, especially the web team. Zane had effectively told them they no longer had a job, and not provided any alternative for them. Claire hoped he had the decency to give them a heads up before he dropped his bomb in front of everyone.

She scanned the room. The mood was dour, and eyes were darting uncomfortably around the table. She and Lucy were copping some stares, as the two who had been named as working the rotations. _But what about Carl?_ Claire looked over at him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked like he was about to explode. She took a quick look at Lucy, who was also looking Carl's way, and then back to him. He looked like he was going to say something, then Zane's voice continued. "I know this will come as a shock to some of you, and I apologise for that. The pressure and the decision has really come from above me. I've just had to try and make it work." Claire sympathised with Zane. It sounded like it was out of his hands; just told to lose some staff but also make it work. It couldn't have been easy. Now the questioning about how she managed the rotations on her own made more sense. Zane continued. "There are opportunities at HQ, or will be, eventually, as a restructure is planned there too. I've been assured that anyone affected by these changes will have first offer of roles there." _At least that's something,_ Claire thought. _This is a pretty shitty situation all round._

"Cut the bullshit, Zane. What the hell is going on?" Carl no doubt spoke for everyone in the room, albeit perhaps a bit stronger than they'd have chosen themselves. "If Lucy and Claire are on the rotations, then what the hell am I going to do?" Claire was wanting to know that too. Carl was the most senior member of the digital team, and Zane was yet to say where he was going to end up. Surely he wasn't one of those now left scrambling for a job at HQ. He might be prickly to deal with, but he had a whole lot of knowledge and talent that Zane couldn't turn away. _Surely._ "I'm glad you asked, Carl," Zane replied. "I've got something I think will suit you perfectly. You've been saying you want more responsibility and this is your opportunity. You've been allocated to NXT, and you'll run that on your own." Claire's eyes widened. _What the hell?_ She turned to look at Lucy, whose expression mirrored her own, and then they looked towards Carl. His mouth was open in disbelief, his hands balling into fists. "You're sending me to Florida? What the actual f—k, man? Don't dress up a flaming piece of crap as a gift, Zane. That's not an opportunity, that's a demotion, and you know it." Everyone else at the table didn't know where to look, Claire included. The tension between these two had been around for weeks, and this had the potential to get messy.

"Relax, Carl," Zane said, taking a sip of his water. "Once you get over the surprise, I'm' sure you'll see it as a great chance to implement your own strategies and really steer a ship. And I wouldn't be ungrateful, considering the implications for others in this room. If you want to be job hunting, just let me know and I'll offer that role someone else." Carl's shoulders were heaving with anger. He hung his head. _I wouldn't say anything if I were you,_ Claire tried to telepathically tell him. _For the sake of your career, keep your mouth shut and take this up in private._ She hoped Zane would do the same. The rest of the team didn't need to hear their argument. She remembered Jon's comment – they just need to punch it out. _Too true. Put them in the ring._ There were a few moments of silence, as the rest of the team looked around each other anxiously, or focused too much on their hands to avoid uncomfortable eye contact. Claire fell into the last group. She wished for the meeting to be over so everyone could dissect this information in time for the show. _How on earth are we all supposed to work now?_ Suddenly, Carl's voice pierced the silence. "Claire's f—king Ambrose."

Claire's jaw dropped. She felt all the heads in the room turn towards her, but she couldn't take her eyes off Carl. A white hot fury built in her stomach. _How could he?_ she wondered. She heard Lucy beside her whisper "Oh god" and it was only then Claire let her eyes move around the room. Her colleagues had their eyes on her; some with their mouths open in shock, some with eyebrows raised in curiosity, others with a pure look of confusion on their face. Zane's was the last face she turned to. His eyes were on her, narrowed in suspicion. "Claire, do you have something you need to tell us?" he asked her. _What do I do?_ The atmosphere in the room was thick and she felt her throat go dry. She turned to Lucy beside her and searched her face for a way out. Lucy's eyes were full of sympathy, and she just shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know what to do, and neither did Claire. The longer she kept silent, the more she knew things looked bad for her. _You've gotta say something. Keep your cool. Act like an adult. You've done nothing wrong._ She took a big breath and turned to Zane. "I feel you and I should talk one on one, Zane." He chuckled. "Yes, I believe you're right there. Everyone else is dismissed." There more confused looks exchanged around the table, and Claire let her eyes drop to the papers in front of her, shuffling them to keep her hands busy and look like she wasn't afraid of what Zane wanted to talk about. "Leave!" Zane shouted, and suddenly everyone pushed out of their chairs and made their way out of the room. Lucy placed a hand on her shoulder. "I won't say a word to anyone," she whispered, and Claire gave her a small but firm nod. _What's the point now?_ she thought. As everyone filed out of the room, she kept her eyes down on her paperwork, until she saw Carl turn and leave. She stared at his back as he walked out of the room, her breathing increasing in anger.

Zane pulled out a chair opposite her. "So. Tell me how the hell you let this happen," he said, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms. Claire locked eyes with him. She had to be honest; she knew that she'd been on Zane's good side until now, and there was no point lying to him to try and stay there. His face was firm, his disappointment palpable. She decided on her strategy, took a big breath, and hoped for the best.


	36. Honesty

"Is it true?" Zane asked from across the table. Claire sighed. "Yes, it's true, but it's not as vulgar as Carl suggested." Zane's eyes closed and his head fell forward slightly. "I swear to God if you tell me it's lovemaking and not f-king I'll throw this glass at you." Claire knew that was an empty threat. "I know Jon has a reputation which is why I was so hesi…" Zane cut her off. "Oh you even call him Jon? Jesus Christ. How long has this been going on?" Claire counted in her head. "We've been seeing each other just over a month." Zane's face cracked a smile. "He's been banging you for a month?!" Claire had to swallow back her building anger. "We've not been sleeping together for a month. That's a relatively new development," she said, trying to keep her sarcastic tones neutral. Zane laughed. "So let me guess. He wined and dined and wooed you until your defences dropped?" Claire didn't appreciate his tone. "Jesus Claire, I would not have picked you for the type."

There was a moment before Claire responded. She could feel Zane was about to say something disrespectful about either her or Jon and she wasn't going to let it slide. "What type is that, Zee?" She looked him dead in eye, a form of a challenge she didn't trust her words to convey. She couldn't hide the fact her emotions were coming into play. "Oh you know, the Titty Master type. One that would bend over backwards, literally, to sleep with a superstar. I thought you had more class than that. At least go for a Barrett or Cesaro." Claire bit her lip to hold in the scream that was building in her throat. "Say what you like about him, but he's changed. I was cautious for the very same reasons but he proved to me that he's different, he's worth trusting." Zane's chuckle filled the room. "Oh my god. Claire, we're not talking Ryan Gosling here. We're talking Dean Ambrose. And I've seen it from the day he got here. The man's addicted to pussy. He'll take it wherever he can." Claire's hands were clammy and she felt her heartbeat kick up a notch. "No, we're talking about Jon Good, who I'm not sure you actually even know. Not like I do anyway." Zane raised his eyebrows and laughed loudly. "No, clearly not." Claire continued regardless. "You can ask anyone around him. He's decided he doesn't want to be that guy anymore. He's changing. I've seen it. Brandi, Cody, Joe; ask any of them. Hell, even Lucy will tell you. She's been his biggest critic." Zane's hand pulled over his face. "Right, right. I get it now. You're the good girl who is reeling in the bad boy and changing his ways. Of course. Next thing he'll be rolling up here in freshly pressed trousers with his hair combed to the side touting bible verses."

Claire closed her eyes. _This isn't going well._ But how could she expect it to? There was a reason she'd kept it quiet and now all of that was manifesting itself. But Zane's confrontational attitude only fuelled her own. "Tell me," she began. "What does it matter to you who I'm dating?" Zane looked up at her with a confused look on his face. "So if I was dating Bobby from Walmart back home, I'm meant to come straight to your office and report it to you?" Zane's eyes narrowed. "Careful. You've already lowered my assessment of your intelligence. Don't bring it down further." Claire rolled her eyes. "Tell me why this is a problem for you. Just ten minutes ago you stood up there and told everyone in this room that it was my performance which proved to you that house shows can be run by one person. You've consistently complimented my efforts and my content is time and again top of the stats. None of this has affected my work." She was doing her best to remain calm and composed. To bring the situation back to her performance, which was the main thing. She watched as Zane rubbed his temples. "You know this undermines the professionalism of the team, Claire," he said. "I have enough trouble trying to get you all to be treated on equal pegging around here as it is. Now I have to say that our best member of the team is nothing more than an easy fangirl?" _What? That is totally unfair._ Before she could protest, Zane continued. "What am I supposed to tell Hunter and Stephanie, huh? What do you think they'll make of your steamy rendezvous with one of their talents?" Claire inhaled deeply. "I'd like to think they'd take it better than you. Of all people they'd know what it's like trying to maintain a relationship outside this place." Zane scoffed. "Stephanie is the boss' daughter. She can do what, and who, she pleases." Claire found herself repeating Jon's words. "It's not just them. This place is incestuous." Zane nodded. "But none of them have crossed the staff/roster line. Congratulations, you're a trail blazer."

They'd reached an impasse. Zane didn't speak for a minute or so, and Claire didn't know what to say. She searched her brain. The only thing she'd not tried was emotion. "Zee, you know how much I love my job. This is the best thing I've ever done, I absolutely love it. Which is why I work hard and why I put in all the hours that Lucy and Carl don't. I wouldn't risk this all on some quick romp. I care about Jon. Underneath that shaggy hair and rough exterior he's proven to be an absolute gentleman Someone I'm proud to know like I do." Claire momentarily forgot she was talking to her boss. "I didn't want to fall for him, for anyone. My career was the most important thing. But fate doesn't give a shit, does it? What was I supposed to do?" She shrugged her shoulders in defeat. It was true. She couldn't control how she was feeling any more than Zane could. She watched as he sighed, shuffled in his seat and leaned across the table towards her. "Claire," he began, his tone was softer than previously. "You are very good at your job and you've been my go to since you got here. But I don't make the rules. Everyone is going to see this as misconduct, and while I'll be arguing your case, you've not helped yourself. I can't say I'm not disappointed. I wish you'd said something to me sooner; this wasn't the way to find out. Like you've kept a dirty little secret from us."

Claire shuddered. Those words struck her like a steak through the heart. It was what she'd been fearing all this time. She shook her head, trying to quell the pain in her voice. "That's not it at all. Do you think I'd risk this on something that didn't matter? You think I'd risk this unless I was really sure?" Zane's eyes fell to the table and let out an exasperated sigh. "I have no idea what to think anymore." He paused before continuing. "But I think it's best you go back to the hotel now. I don't want you to have to work tonight with all this talk going round. Go home and take some time. In fact, you can have the whole week. I'll need that time to figure something out." _He's putting me on garden leave? I haven't done anything wrong!_ "But I want to work this weekend," she said, more desperation in her voice than she intended. Zane stood up slowly. "I know you do. But I can't let you. Not yet." Claire stared at him in disbelief. _What am I going to do?_ "Come on," he said. "I'll walk you out."

Zane opened the door and Claire was on auto pilot. Somehow she managed to get herself to the door and Zane led the way. They rounded the corner and headed up the long hallway towards the parking lot. She didn't notice Lucy's head peering around a corner until she heard Zane's voice. "You have work to do, Lucy," he said sternly. Claire looked up and made eye contact with Lucy. He face was solemn and searching her own for some sort of answer as to what had happened in that room. Claire looked down at her feet. It was the only way she could keep her eyes from filing with tears. _I need to find Jon, I need to talk to him._ But she wasn't going to have the chance with Zane walking beside her. They made a pit stop for Claire to pick up her luggage then continued out into the parking lot. Claire had only just heard the door close behind her when she noticed someone walking towards them. She glanced up and locked eyes with Roman. He had a smile on his face initially, but as she tried to contain a quiver in her bottom lip, his grin subsided into a questioning concern. She sucked her lips in; out of all the things she wanted right now, she most wanted to stay composed. _I will not cry in front of Zane._ Roman slowed to a stop, and Claire let her eyes drop from his to the ground in front of her, as she and Zane continued towards a line of cabs.

Zane opened the door to the cab for her, as the driver loaded her suitcase into the trunk. "Don't think I'm enjoying this," he said. "I'm doing this for you. I think right now it's better for you to get out of here." Claire slowly brought her eyes up to his face. "Think really hard about what it is you want, Claire," he added, closing the door on her. _I want Jon._ As the cab pulled away from the venue, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Her lips quivered, her eyes welled until she couldn't see straight. She let out a sharp sob. _I just want Jonny._


	37. The hunted and the hunting

Jon was sitting on the bench in his locker room, taping his wrists. His shoulder was still tender from last night and he knew it would hurt with the bumps he was going to take tonight, but he decided against getting the medical staff to tape it. He didn't need a reason for them to keep an eye on him. He heard his locker room door open, and turned to see Roman pulling his bag behind him. He gave him a raised eyebrow greeting then looked back at his wrists.

"Hey man," Roman returned as he set his bag down. "What's up with Claire?" Jon looked up at him blankly. "What do you mean?" he asked genuinely. He'd not seen her since he got here; he knew they were having some important meeting before the show, where they both hoped she was going to switch house show rotations. She said she'd swing by after it was over, if she could, otherwise they were going to catch a cab to the airport together. That was the plan, and as far as he knew nothing was 'up'. Roman turned to look at him. "I just walked past her and Zee in the parking lot. She looked pretty upset. She didn't even say anything to me." Jon narrowed his eyes. _Upset? That's not like her._ "What were they doing out there?" he asked. Roman shrugged. "I thought you might know. He put her in a cab and it took off. She had her bag with her and everything." _What the hell?_ Jon dropped the tape and rummaged through his bag for his phone. No messages or missed calls. "That's f-king weird," he said, while he began typing out a message to Claire. "That's what I thought," Roman said. "It looked like she was about to cry." Jon felt his chest contract a little. He'd not seen Claire cry. He never wanted to see that. _Maybe someone died? Grandpa or Mrs Allen or something_. Whatever it was, he needed to hear from her. He wanted to pull her close to him and tell her everything was going to be okay. Even though he didn't know what was wrong.

Before he could press send on the message, there was a knock at the door. He exchanged a look with Roman, who called for the guest to enter. Zane's head appeared around the corner. "Hey guys. Bit of a reshuffle, I'm afraid. You've got me tonight." He gave Roman a long look before turning to Jon. The look on his face made Jon feel uneasy. There was something in his eyes which felt judgmental. Almost challenging. Jon rolled his shoulders as an instinctive reflex, then winced at the ache. "Great," Zane said, tapping the clipboard in his hand. "We can use that injury. Those pictures of you from last night went off the charts. You guys good to go now?" he asked, looking between Jon and Roman. Other than the look in his eye, he certainly wasn't acting like anything unusual was happening, even though it was very rare for him to be arranging pictures and working off the script. There was no reason to not follow him out into the hallway.

As they walked, Jon looked at Roman, who had a questioning look fixed on the back of Zane's head. They rounded a couple of corners, and as they came around a third, Lucy ran full on into Zane. "Holy crap, Luce!" Zane shouted, picking his papers up off the ground. Lucy look flustered as she tried to regain her composure. She looked at Jon, her eyes wide and desperate. Her mouth hung open like she wanted to say something. _She knows_ , he thought. _She knows what's wrong with Claire_. Zane interrupted his thoughts. "Where were you off to in such a rush, huh?" he asked her. His head turned slightly towards Jon before he continued. "Pretty sure you'll find Heath Slater that way," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders to steer her in the right direction. Lucy threw Jon a quick glance over her shoulder before Zane pushed her gently towards where she needed to be. "Sorry about that," he said casually. Roman looked at Jon, a sense of knowing in his eyes. _I need to talk to her._

Once they'd finished with Zane, Jon told Roman he needed to talk to Lucy, and took off down the hallway he'd seen her disappear down. He looked down each corridor and through every open door. He saw every person on their team except her. He continued, noticing a few of the staff look at him for longer than usual. _They probably think it's weird I'm powering around on a mission_ , he thought. _Usually it's them hunting me down, not the other way around._ Not that they knew who he was looking for. He'd kept his mouth shut. After a second loop of the corridors, he looked a TV screen. His match was in two segments; he needed to get ready. _God Lucy_. _Always popping up when you're not wanted but now..._ He returned to his locker room, and checked his phone, hopeful Claire had made contact. Nothing. _What the hell is going on?_ he asked himself, as he prepped himself for the match.

He met Roman in the corridor and they walked towards the backstage area. "Any luck?" Roman asked. Jon shook his head. "None. Nothing from Claire either." Roman lowered his voice. "It's not you, is it? You've not done anything?" Jon searched his brain. "I haven't done anything. And I don't think there's anything I've not done either," he said cautiously. Claire was happy and upbeat when they'd said goodbye last night, if only a bit concerned about his injury. Nothing in her text that morning was out of the ordinary. She was too busy to see him before leaving the hotel but said she'd find him at the venue. He had taken it on face value; there had been no reason not to. He replayed their time together last night in his head. _Maybe I said something I shouldn't have? Maybe this_ is _my fault?_ _Chicks overreact about all sorts of shit._ But not Claire. That's part of what made her different. _She's got her shit together._ He tried to shake it from her mind. "Anyway bro, I'll see you out there," Roman said, placing one hand on his shoulder and holding the other out in a fist. Jon nodded, and touched his fist to Roman's. "Let's bring it," he said, trying to sound more together than he was feeling.

Jon heard Brock's music hit. He slapped himself gently on each cheek a few times, jumped up and down on the spot, trying to get his head in the game. He fell to the ground and pumped out some press ups. He found comfort in getting the blood moving around his body. This was routine and familiar; his body was doing its best to distract his mind, to help him get into character. Roman's music played through the venue. He rolled his wrists, took a swig of water. _Twenty minutes. Just drop it for twenty minutes. Do your job._ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet fast approaching. He turned to see Lucy running towards him. _Shit, now?_ He took a step towards her. "In ten words or less, what the hell is going on? Has someone died? Why is she not here?" Lucy looked panicked. "No, no one's died. Has she not been in contact with you?" Exasperated, Jon threw his water bottle to the floor. "Do I look like I know what's going on? I've not heard a thing. Tell me. Fast." Lucy took a big breath, and spoke quickly. "We were in the team meeting talking about the house show allocations and things got tense. Carl got angry and he yelled..." She trailed off. _He yelled what?_ Jon followed her eye line. She'd spotted Zane walking into the room. She took a step back from him, just as the loud sound of a chainsaw filled the building. One of the stage crew called his name, beckoning him quickly. _Shit._ He leaned towards Lucy. "Do not go anywhere" he said, with more bitterness than intended. He ran up the stairs towards the curtain, and stepped out on to the stage. He felt the crowd roar for him, but it didn't make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as usual. He shook his head vigorously to try and compose himself. _Thank god Ambrose can get away with doing pretty much anything._ He made his way to the ring, rolling his sore shoulder a few times. When he met with Roman across the canvas, Roman held out both his fists, their usual on-camera greeting. "You alright?" he asked over the crowd noise. Jon nodded, sure to stay in character. "Focus, okay?" Roman continued. "You can't do anything about it from here. So be here, okay?" Jon nodded. _I'm here. Dean Ambrose is here._

 _/_

Their segment had closed the show, and Jon had to lie crumpled next to the ring steps until the cameras stopped rolling. While he exaggerated his pained face, his shoulder did hurt. He wondered where Claire was. _Is she still expecting to ride to the airport with me?_ He waited for Brock and Heyman to exit the ramp before pushing up off the stairs to his feet. He threw Roman a look, needing to remain in character until they got backstage. Ordinarily, he'd high five a few fans on the way out, maybe take a few selfies and sign a few autographs. But tonight, he was not in the mood. He was thankful Ambrose hadn't been triumphant and in a celebratory mood. Roman hung back, however. He had a fan base to win over, and didn't have Claire to worry about.

He pulled back the curtain and rushed down the stairs. A few people hurried towards him; one handed him a towel and a water bottle, one was a camera for a backstage segment, and the other was Zane. Jon felt a spike of frustration. He didn't know what had happened but whatever it was, he had to be a key player, considering the way Lucy was behaving around him. Zane ordered him to stand back against a wall holding his shoulder, and Jon followed his instruction without saying a word. He gave Zane a long look before taking off towards his locker room. _I'm going to find out what's going on, and if you're behind upsetting her, you better watch your back._

He opened the door to his locker room and jumped when he saw Lucy sitting across from him. "Holy shit," he said, recovering from the fright. He hadn't been expecting to see her in there. He slammed the door behind him, hoping the noise would discourage anyone else from knocking. "Now. No interruptions. What is going on?" He watched as Lucy swallowed, seemingly nervous. It wasn't like her to be shy of speaking up. She was wiggling her fingers back and forth in her hand anxiously. "Look, I don't know what happened. All I know is in front of everyone, Carl blurted out she was sleeping with you, and Zane ordered everyone else out of the room. Next I saw he was escorting her from the venue." Jon felt his heart rate increase rapidly. _F—k. F—k f—k f—k._ He couldn't put together any coherent thoughts. All he could compute is that this was bad. Lucy continued. "She won't reply to my texts. I don't know what Zee said, but she looked rattled when I saw her." She started saying something about how she called Claire's cellphone, and their hotel room, but Jon had stopped listening. He closed his eyes and tried to catch up the multitude of things that had flooded into his mind. The sound of his rapid breathing grew louder inside his head. He could feel a heated anger building in his throat. _That dirty piece of shit._ He threw his towel against the wall and turned on his heel, throwing the door open and storming out of the room.

Jon's thoughts hadn't even turned to Claire. Where she was or what she was doing. He was simply blinded by rage towards Carl. He knew exactly what would've happened, he had pieced it all together. Claire would've been praised, Carl would've been criticised, and in a fit of jealousy, he'd have deliberately revealed their relationship in the hope of ruining Claire's advancement. He opened and closed his hands into fists as he walked around the hallways. He didn't stop to acknowledge anyone he passed. He stomped towards the door to the parking lot, hoping Carl hadn't yet left. He peered into the luggage room, which proved to be empty. He opened the door to the parking lot, seeing some of the roster heading towards their vehicles. He huffed under his breath, and worked his way back through the corridors. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of Carl's back, rounding a corner. Jon increased his pace, walking so quickly he was almost jogging, and turned behind Carl, taking a quickl look ahead to see if anyone was approaching from the other direction.

"What the hell have you done, asshole?" he said curtly. Carl spun around in surprise, locking eyes with him. A buzz went through Jon's body as he saw the fear run into Carl's eyes. _Damn straight you're afraid, boy._ Carl's eyes shifted quickly and he turned to walk away. Jon grabbed his wrist and shoved him firmly against the wall, feeling his body bounce off the cold concrete. He held his wrist tightly, and leaned in close to his face. "I know what you did. And I know why you did it." Jon spat the words out, feeling his pulse thump in throat. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't rearrange your face." Carl's eyes were wide, and he was leaning against the wall as tight as possible, trying to create as much space between him and Jon as he could. Jon saw his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed. "Because you'd get fired," Carl finally said, his cracking voice giving away his fear, despite his brash words. Jon felt a smirk rise on his face. He leaned closer. "I am 100% sure they would get rid of you before they got rid of me, boy. You're a commodity. You're replaceable. And you're threatened by someone who does your job better than you. I see right through you. Don't forget I've made a career out of being an asshole, so I know one when I see one." He took a deep breath and strengthened his grip on Carl's wrist. "Listen to me," he said, his voice deep and rough. "I swear to god, if anything, _anything_ , happens to Claire as a result of your little outburst, I will personally ensure that every bone in your face is broken. " He let Carl's wrist go, throwing it against the wall. He could see him shaking, and continued to stare him in the eye. He took a step back, slowly, and then another, in time with his big, long breaths. With the space, Carl found his courage and his voice. "That is a threat. This is workplace bullying," he said, again with a quiver in his voice. Jon's face remained steeled as he leaned closer to him. "Here's a news flash for you: I do not give f—k," he said, slowly and calmed. "Stay away from Claire, and stay the hell out of my way. You're damn right that's a threat." He flicked Carl's hat off his head on to the floor, then turned to walk away. He closed his eyes, letting out a long exhale, and made his way back towards his locker room.

 _I've got to talk to Claire._


	38. In the dark

When Jon returned to his locker room, he went straight for his phone. There was a missed call from Claire, and a follow up text message. _Damn it,_ he thought. He admonished himself for not being there when she wanted him. But deep inside he knew he wouldn't have been able to talk to her, to properly listen, until he had seen Carl. His head had been so clouded by fury that he wouldn't have been much use to her without getting it out. He read her message:  
 _Can you call when you've finished up, please?_  
He scoffed. Just a nice calm message, as if nothing was happening. As he dialled her number, he found himself wishing he'd hit Carl, even though he knew that would've caused further trouble. _Bastard deserved it._

"Hi." Claire's voice was soft and sad. Jon closed his eyes for a moment. Hearing her tone knocked him slightly, but mostly he was just glad to be talking to her, after the night he'd had. "Hey. Where are you?" He wanted to see her as soon as possible. "I'm downtown" she replied. "Have you heard about what went down in the meeting?" _So casual_ , he thought, as he packed his bag with his free hand. "Yeah. Eventually. He'll get what's coming to him, don't you worry about that." There was a long pause, and Jon hoped she wasn't crying. "Can you come and get me? Please?" she asked, her voice soft. The usual confidence and happiness of her voice was gone. She sounded frightened, like a child. Jon felt a flicker in his chest. "I'm halfway out the door. Text me the address. I'll be there in a cab as soon as I can." He was reluctant to hang up from her. He paced as quickly as he could to the parking lot, pulling his bag behind him. As he opened the door to the lot, he heard someone call out to him. "Jon, can I talk to you for a minute?" He shot a quick look out of the corner of his eye. "Piss off, Zane," he replied flatly, pulling the door firmly and walking out. _You're the second to last guy I want to be talking to right now._

He threw his bag in the back of a cab and told the driver the address Claire had text him. He pulled his cap low over his eyes; as always, there were plenty of fans waiting, but he'd walked right past them. He could tell by the flashes that they were still taking photos. He lifted his hand in a casual wave, just to make it seem like he was still trying. He thought hard about what he was going to say to Claire. She was upset, clearly not at him, but he had a niggling sense this was all his fault. She'd kept him a secret from all but two of her workmates for a reason. She didn't want her reputation to be tarnished by his. She'd made a lot of progress in her short time on the road and he was proud of her. He would hate to see anything taken away from her because of them being together.

 _Us being together. Us_. He'd not had an 'us' in a long, long time. And even then it wasn't an 'us' the way he felt about his 'us' with Claire. In the past he'd always feared 'the talk' or moment where you worked out what the relationship was. Even the word relationship was something he usually ran from. But after everything that had happened tonight, all he wanted to do was confirm to Claire, with Claire, that he was all in. He was certain she would know that already, with the way he acted around her. The way she'd made him act. But he wanted to tell her so she could then tell everyone she worked with that they were more than bed buddies. That they were serious. That he was serious.

"You sure this is it, man?" the cab driver asked him. Jon looked out the window. They had pulled over next to a small park on the corner of an intersection. "It'll do," he said, passing the cabbie some cash. "Keep the change, pal." He grabbed his bag and stepped out onto the sidewalk. _This is where Claire has been all night?_ The park was dark with one lonely street lamp in the middle, and trees blocking any light from the moon or surrounding buildings. Even he wasn't keen to go in there; it didn't look safe. He placed his hand in his pocket to call Claire when he heard her voice behind him. He spun around to see her standing a few feet away, holding her luggage. She forced the corners of her mouth upward in an attempted smile, but her heavy, sad eyes told the real story. He powered towards her, dropping his bag on the ground and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her into his chest, with one hand holding her head against him firmly. He sighed in relief. "I've been worried about you," he said kissing her hair. He felt her nod her head slowly. He pulled his head back slightly to look down at her. Her eyes were filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered. When she looked up at him, he felt a pulling in his chest which made it feel like it would cave in on itself. Her face screwed up slowly as the tears took over, and she buried herself back in his arms.

He'd never had to comfort a crying woman before. At least not one he cared about. He held her tightly against him, and stroked her hair gently. He kissed her head, hoping it would make her feel better. His mind drifted to Carl and he decided he definitely needed a punch to the face. _No one makes her feel this way and lives to talk about it._ Claire brought her hands up to her face, pulling away from him. She wiped underneath her eyes before blinking a few times and looking at him. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes dull. "I just needed to get that out." Jon swallowed. She looked so sad; her shoulders were slumped, her voice weak. And her eyes, the beautiful, deep blue eyes which always shined to accentuate her happiness were now missing that spark, accentuating her sadness. In that moment, he'd have given anything he had to make it better, to take it all away and have that smile back on her face. _But I get the feeling this isn't going to be a quick fix._

"What happened? Have you been here all night?" Jon asked her. "A little while," she replied softly. "I didn't think anyone else would want to be in here, so it seemed perfect." Jon's eyes lifted to the park behind him. He felt a small flicker of anger inside his stomach. _That was stupid; anything could've happened to you in there._ But he let it fall away. She was safe, and he was with her. "Why did you leave?" he asked, prompting her out of her silence. "Zane made me. I've brought shame upon his team, don't you know." She chuckled, sarcastically, and Jon felt insulted. "Did he actually say that?" Claire shrugged. "Words to that effect. That I've called into question the professionalism of the team, and that he'll have to explain to the bosses that his top performer is nothing more than a lustful fangirl." He pursed his lips. "Did he even want to know the truth, or just jump to conclusions?" Claire dipped her head. "I tried to explain, but he didn't seem to be overly interested in the fact feelings were involved. He just wanted to get me out of there as soon as possible." Claire shook her head, as if she was still having trouble comprehending the day's events.

 _I thought Zane was better than that,_ Jon thought to himself. "So he took your allocations, I'm guessing?" Claire shrugged. "I guess so. I've not spoken to anyone but you. I didn't think I could handle talking to Lucy, so I didn't answer her calls." "She was worried about you," Jon said, running his thumb across her hand. He expected her to say something, but she stayed silent, eyes towards the ground. _What do I do now? How do I make this better?_ He scratched his head. "Come on, let's get inside somewhere. We'll have a drink and change the subject, if you want. What time is your flight?" He pulled on Claire's hand, but she didn't budge. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. He saw the tears well once more. "He's suspended me. I'm going home tonight and staying home. Indefinitely." With that, she burst into tears, placing her hands over her face like a child. The high pitched sound of her inhaling between sobs took the breath out of him and made his chest ache. He pulled her into his chest and held her tightly, as if the tighter he held her, the sooner her tears would dry. _I have no idea what to do_. He just felt like hitting something, someone. He'd never felt so angry, so sad on someone else's behalf. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and lowered his lips to kiss her hair. He could feel the movement of her shoulders as she cried. "We'll fix this," he said, as comforting as he could. "I'll fix this this. I promise." He rested his chin on top of hers. He didn't care who he had to take out to make it happen. "I'm so sorry, Claire."


	39. Thinking things through

Claire was pleased Mrs Allen hadn't paid a visit since she arrived home. It had been very early Wednesday morning when the cab had dropped her off, and she had gone straight to bed, after sending Jon a text as he'd requested. It had been hard to leave him at the airport, and she'd seen it in his eyes as well. He wasn't comfortable leaving her, but he had a convention meet and greet he had to attend the following day. He'd repeated what he'd said to her at the park; that he was sorry, and he would fix this. _It's not his problem to fix_ , Claire thought as the tears began to flow.

In the last twelve hours, while she had thought too much about the situation, none of it had been overly rational. She had cried, and screamed, jumped to conclusions and got angry. Now she was at home, with no one to distract her, she couldn't help but revisit everything over and over. As far as she could see, with her best unemotive rationale, there were two issues to address. The first was Zane and his view that she had been unprofessional. He had seemed to soften slightly as he said goodbye to her in the parking lot, but Claire was aware he was required to be her boss above showing compassion or empathy. She knew he had to think about precedents and showing the rest of the team that sleeping with the talent wasn't advisable. She was reasonable enough to understand that. She could only hope that, in return, he would be reasonable enough to listen to her and realise it wasn't just scratching an itch with Jon. And at no stage had her standards dropped. She was committed to her job, and Jon knew that, so she was prepared to fight back on that one. _At least I've got a few days to assemble a compelling argument..._

The other point she would need to tackle was Carl. She would never claim she and Carl were close friends, but she thought they'd turned a corner recently. She felt betrayed by his outburst in the meeting. Everything about it had been so cutting; his tone, his words and his timing. She'd have been upset with him even if he'd revealed her relationship to Zane privately, but in front of everyone was the worst scenario she could imagine. She wondered if that had been intentional. She wanted to believe he wouldn't be so calculating, but she had also wanted to believe he wouldn't say anything in the first place, so she didn't know what to think anymore. She was trying to think rationally, but she wasn't yet a stage to contemplate forgiving him. Even if everything returned to normal tomorrow, she didn't think she'd be able to accept what he'd done. He'd humiliated her in front of their colleagues, because they simply didn't understand what was happening between her and Jon. _And he might've ruined my career_ , she thought.

Jon had told her he'd spoken to Carl before he left the venue. He didn't say much else than "We had a little chat", and Claire imagined how that would've played out. The only thing she asked was if he'd hit him. Jon had shook his head and told her that while he was furious at Carl, he hadn't wanted to make the situation any worse. Claire believed him, and was thankful he'd been so perceptive. _Even though I'm close to wanting to watch him kick the crap out of Carl_. Jon being violent or even aggressive wouldn't have helped things at all. She did hope, however, that whatever Jon had said had rattled Carl. She couldn't think of an equivalent action which would affect him like what he had done to her, so she wanted to believe Jon had done enough to let Carl know he better think twice before showing his face in front of Claire. _I could always reveal to Zane what him and Lucy have been up to…_ As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she admonished herself. She wasn't that type of person, not by a long shot. It was none of her business what Lucy and Carl got up to, and it was certainly wasn't her place to reveal that to Zane. If only Carl had paid her the same respect.

 _Lucy._ Claire felt bad that she'd not returned her calls or texts. In the heat of the moment on Tuesday night, she didn't want to talk to anyone other than Jon. She knew Lucy was worried about her, especially with the look she'd given her as she and Zane left the building. But Claire had known if she spoke to anyone about the situation, she'd break down. And the only person she wanted to do that in front of was Jon. She sat at her laptop and brought up a Facebook message to Lucy.  
 _Hey Luce. Sorry for not getting back to you. Things are looking pretty shit at the moment. You'll be doing the rotation by yourself this weekend, if Zee hasn't told you already. I don't really want to go into it like this, but I'll keep in touch when I have more info, okay? Thanks for caring though. Appreciate it.  
_ The message was quite vague and distant, even though she didn't intend it to be. She didn't want to go over things with her in a message, and she didn't know if she was meant to be talking to anyone else about it. Within a few minutes she had a reply from Lucy:  
 _Hey. I've not heard anything from Zane – why are you not working this weekend?  
_ Claire didn't want to answer that right now. Surely Zane would have to tell her before the weekend anyway. Another reply popped up in the chat window.  
 _And don't worry, I f**king laid into Carl. He's an asshole and I told him he's a worthless piece of shit. I won't be going near him again. What he did was messed up. I can't believe he had the balls to do that. I hope Zane hauls him over the coals for it. It was totally uncalled for. Remember, Team Claire all the way. Here if you want to talk.  
_ Claire didn't know what to say, so she just thanked Lucy and put a smiley emoji on the end, trying to convey a sense of calm she certainly wasn't feeling. She sighed, put her laptop away and decided to head out for a run in an attempt to clear her head.

/

Later that evening, there was a knock on her door. She was expecting Mrs Allen to appear at some stage, so wasn't surprised to see her standing on the other side. What did surprise her was the enormous bunch of yellow roses she was holding, almost bigger than she was. "Hello dear, these came for you earlier," she said, handing them over to Claire and making her way inside. Claire adjusted the flowers in her arms in order to close the door, watching Mrs Allen drop her mail on the table, along with freshly baked bread. Claire placed the flowers on her counter and opened the card.  
 _To brighten your day and bring that smile back. Jonny._

Claire did smile, and Mrs Allen didn't miss it. "I think he likes you" she said with a knowing grin. "And I think you like him." Claire nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right," she replied. A moment passed before Claire added "I don't have a vase big enough for these!" They both laughed. Claire left the roses in the sink momentarily and sat down beside Mrs Allen. "He seemed like a nice young man," she started. "Tell me. Is he good to you?" Claire blinked slowly. He'd been nothing but good to her. The aloofness and near-permanent snarl he'd had when they first met had burnt away to reveal a caring man with a true heart and, whilst often unconventional, a sense of romance that left her with no doubt about the depth of his intentions. "He really is. He's different than other guys, but he's very good to me." Mrs Allen nodded. "Different is not bad, dear. Maybe he's got the difference that was missing before. The difference that will work." Claire thought about that. There was nothing about him that was similar to guys she'd dated before; everything from his job to level of education to his colourings. She was typically the tall, dark and handsome type. He'd made her break all her rules, not just the ones about not dating anyone she worked with. Mrs Allen's voice pierced her thoughts. "How is it working with him?" Claire screwed her face up slightly. _Do I tell her the truth?_ "It's good. We don't do exactly the same thing so we're not working closely together all day. Our paths cross sometimes, but mostly it's meeting up after work." _There. None of that was a lie_. Mrs Allen nodded. "That's nice. A little bit of space will be healthy. When Bill and I owned the shoe shop we squabbled something terrible. We were always bringing work home with us. We never got time to just be together; there was always work or the children to worry about. It was a very tough few years, until I decided I needed to do something else. Then things went back to normal. I saw him as my husband again." There was a sweet, nostalgic smile on her face, and Claire was smiling too. She hoped one day she would be able to regale a younger generation with stories of the man she spent her life with. The thought gave her a warm feeling inside, which was a nice change from the past 24 hours. Claire told Mrs Allen she had a week's leave, without defining which type of leave. "That's good to hear, honey. You've been working too hard. Put your feet up and enjoy. I'll stay out of your way, but you know where to come if you want fresh baking or conversation."

/

Claire had just hung up from talking to Jon when she saw a Facebook notification appear on her phone. Another message from Lucy. Claire settled into bed, turning the light off and plugging in her phone, before opening the message.  
 _So, what does this mean for you and Ambrose though? Is it like him or the job? Because that would suck._  
Claire felt a pressure build behind her eyes, and soon enough they had filled with tears. Lucy, direct as always, had forced her to think about the question she had deliberately pushed away from conscious thought. _That would suck_ , she agreed as she put her phone on the bedside table. She turned onto her side and pulled the pillow Jon had slept on last week close to her. It smelled faintly of him, and she heard a tear fall from her face into the crisp cotton. _What would I do if Zane gave me an ultimatum - stay with Jon, lose my job?_ She shook the thought from her mind, but worried it was something she may need to address in the coming days.


	40. Boardroom battlefield

Friday morning, Claire lazed around in bed. She'd kept herself busy Thursday; she'd gone for a lengthy swim at the local pools, done some errands, and brought home the biggest load of groceries she'd needed in a long time. She'd scrubbed every inch of her kitchen and bathroom, and her car. She did a couple of loads of laundry. She cooked herself a nice meal and worked her way through the pile of dishes afterwards. All of this helped keep her mind distracted, mostly. Even Jon, when he had called, hadn't asked about work or how she was feeling. But Friday morning, she wasn't feeling the same resilience. She thought about what she should be doing, and what everyone else was doing. Jon would be heading to a house show, and Lucy too. She wondered if Zane would now take her place on Jon's rotation, or, maybe he'd given the job to Carl. _Holy crap_. Surely after what happened Zane would know better than to have those two on the road together. Perhaps Lucy would have A rotation and Carl B, for now. She didn't imagine Zane would want to give up his weekend easily. She sighed. She knew she shouldn't think about it. It only made her upset. She rolled on to her back and tried to think how she was going to fill her day again. _Maybe I shouldn't have gone so hard out on everything yesterday. I've left myself with nothing to do_.

An hour or so later, her phone rang. She jumped at it quickly, hoping it would be Jon, but an unknown local number showed on her screen. Ordinarily she let those pass through to voicemail, but given she didn't have anything else on her agenda this morning, she answered. "Hello Claire, Allison Pionte here, WWE Employee Conduct and Disputes Manager. How are you?" Claire's eyes narrowed. _Disputes?_ "I'm okay, thank you," Claire answered, knowing that being polite was the best way forward in this unknown conversation. "How can I help you?" Allison took a moment to reply. "I actually believe it's me who might be able to help you. Claire, over the last day or so I've had a discussion with Zane Henry, and he raised a couple of points that I'd like to discuss with you." _Oh. He didn't waste time, did he?_ "Okay," Claire replied neutrally. She pushed herself upright in her bed and felt her palms begin to sweat. She wasn't prepared for this conversation. At all, but especially now. "I'd like you to come into the office today, if possible. I believe you have some free time, currently?" Claire frowned. There was a smarminess to Allison's voice she didn't appreciate. "I can come this afternoon," Claire replied. "I have some existing arrangements this morning." That was not true at all, but she didn't want to be seen to be at the beck and call of the company. _And anyway, if I am going to meet with you then suddenly I do have a lot of things to do this morning._ "That's perfectly fine," Allison replied. "How does 2pm sound?" Claire's pulse increased. "2pm will work well. Do I need to bring anything?" She wondered if a legal representative was required. She didn't know the seriousness of this meeting, nor the subject matter. "No, just yourself," Allison replied. She began telling Claire she would she her at the arranged time, when Claire interrupted her. "Allison, am I allowed to be briefed on the content of the meeting, please? I do not want to arrive unprepared." She swore she heard a quiet scoff from the other end of the line. "There's no need to prepare anything, Miss Harris. We will simply be discussing your current work arrangement. I will see you at 2pm." With that, Allison said goodbye and hung up.

Claire let out a big sigh. She dialled Jon's number, hoping he would pick up. She really needed to talk to him. It went straight to voicemail. She looked at the clock. _Yes, of course._ He'd be on a flight to the next town now. He hadn't gone home to Vegas this week as he had the convention on Wednesday; the company had put him up for two extra nights. She left a voicemail. "Hey. I've got a meeting with the HR team here today. The lady wouldn't tell me what the subject matter was, so I'm kinda going in blind. It's at 2pm my time. Gonna go for a run to clear the head then look at legal things online, I guess. Not sure what I'll need to bring or know. Can you call me when you have a moment please?" She felt her voice begin to falter slightly. "I miss you," she said quickly, not realizing how true those words were. She hung up and blinked back a few tears. What she wouldn't give for a pep talk from him; for him to wrap her up in his arms, saying everything was going to be okay, even though they both had no certainty of that. _Or wouldn't it be nice to not be in this situation at all..._ She thought of Carl and wondered if the sour taste in her mouth would ever disappear.

Claire drove into town listening to her best running playlist, full of motivational and inspirational lyrics about challenges, being a fighter, not backing down. Following her run, she'd ironed her formal work attire which hadn't been worn since she left HQ. She'd dug out some sandals with a bit of a heel, to make her appear taller, but not too much that it would impede her stride and look inappropriate. She'd straightened her hair and pulled it back in a sleek high pony. _First impressions count_ , she thought. _And while Allison Pionte has probably formed an opinion bass on what she's heard, I'm not going to give her a chance to pull me up on anything._ She spent the car ride reciting several key lines she'd rehearsed at home, and remembering the wording of her contract.

She parked in the WWE HQ visitor parking lot. A feeling of nostalgia ran through her, followed by a slight unease. _What do I say if I see someone I know?_ She'd arrived with plenty of time to spare, not wanting to risk being late, but she didn't fancy sitting in the lobby for 20 minutes. She sat in the car for longer than necessary, counting up to level six. She'd never come across Allison Pionte before. Claire's life had been on Level 3, and she had very rarely left it. One thing she did know is that the higher the level, the higher the job, so Allison must be right up there. At 1.50, Claire gave herself a long look in the rear vision mirror, steeled herself, and went inside.

She signed in at the front desk and was escorted to Level 6 by a chaperone. Claire didn't recognize him, and he didn't seem to recognize her. He asked her to be seated on a sofa to the left of the elevator, as he phoned someone to let them know she was here. She ran her hands along her skirt to rid them of their claminess. She closed her eyes, almost chanting her lines to herself. The trance was broken by a vibration inside her handbag. She rummaged through to see Jon's face flashing on the screen. _Are you serious? Now is definitely not the time_. But it was just before 2pm so it was early by his standards. Still, she found comfort in the fact he'd called, trying to talk to her. She declined the call and punched out a very quick text message.  
 _Sorry. Just about to go in. Will call you afterwards, keep your phone around_.  
Within a minute she had a reply.  
\- _Crap, sorry. Plane delayed. Kick her ass, okay? Everything crossed here._  
 _Kick her ass_. He was such a professional wrestler. She was typing out a reply when she heard someone call her name. She glanced up to see a short, older lady standing at the doorway to the hall. "Ms. Pionte is ready for you." Claire swallowed. _But am I ready for her?_ She put her phone inside her bag, just as it lit up with a final message from Jon.  
 _\- I believe in you._  
The words were followed by a fist emoji, then a tiger emoji. Claire deducted that he meant 'go get em, tiger'. _That's what I'll go with anyway_ , she thought, smirking momentarily at the thought of Jon battling through the emojis to find the ones he wanted.

Allison Pionte was nothing like Claire expected. She had pictured a shortish, dark haired lady whose age showed on her face. A woman with glasses and a snarl. She'd built her up as a dragony villain, but she looked nothing of the sort. Allison had curly blond hair, was round in the face and looked to be late 30s, early 40s at the latest. She was wearing a pink polka dot blouse. Claire imagined her to be almost jolly out of work hours. This threw her slightly, as Claire had prepared a brash offensive against a dragon, not a fully mature cabbage patch doll. She stood as Claire entered the room. _On the offensive_. "Ms Pionte, nice to meet you," Claire said, extending her hand. Firm. Eye contact. Don't be afraid. Allison took her hand. "Miss Harris. Please, take a seat." Claire eyed the long meeting table. There were papers and glasses of water waiting for them. It looked formal.

The two women sat down, Claire doing her best not to eye what the papers referenced. After thanking her for coming in at short notice, Allison cut to the chase. "Miss Harris, you're aware of why I called you here today." That was a statement, not a question. _I'm aware of the topic of conversation but not what you're going to say about it_. Allison continued. "Zane Henry, in his role as your manager, made it known to us that you have been engaging in a romantic relationship with one of the talent. Is this true?" Claire made sure her voice was level. "Yes, that is correct." _Emphasis on the relationship_. She and Jon may not have declared undying love to one another, but it was more than a roll in the hay. Allison noted her reply down. "And how long would you say this has been going on?" "Almost two months," Claire replied. Again, Allison took note of her answer. "I believe you were employed here in Stamford prior to traveling with the on-site communications team. How long would you say you have been on the road?" Claire knew her angle immediately. "Almost three months," she replied matter of factly. Allison added that response to her paperwork. "Now Miss Harris, can you please tell me what happened in the planning meeting last Tuesday, and exactly what was said?" Claire blinked twice to ensure composure, then recounted the story of what Carl had said; how Zane reacted; and how he had personally ensured she left the venue. She was sure to only refer to Carl as her colleague. She didn't want to be accused of telling tales.

Allison asked for clarification around a couple of points, then closed her compendium. "Thank you Miss Harris. We will be in touch regarding the outcome of this meeting before the end of next week." _That's it? It's over? But I have questions too._ Allison moved to stand, before Claire began to talk. "Excuse me, Ms Pionte? I have a few questions myself, actually. A few points of clarification, perhaps. Do you have the time?" Allison looked only slightly annoyed, before wheeling her chair back towards the table. "Of course," she said, opening her compendium once more. Claire swallowed. _Here we go. Run the lines._ "Are you able to confirm on what exact grounds I have been stood down? I have been perusing my contract and have been unable to find a relevant clause, unless I have missed something?" Claire noted Allison's eyes narrow slightly, as Claire took her own pen to paper to record her response. It wasn't that she didn't trust her memory; she just wanted to return serve to Ms Pionte. To have her aware her aware her every word was being recorded. "Well Miss Harris, there is no exact no-fraternization clause in your contract, but there is a disrepute and misconduct clause. It is clearly stated that this is at the discretion of your immediate manager, and that a stand down period maximum of two weeks can be enforced at that level. All matters resulting in a stand down period are passed through my office for review of their nature and seriousness. No final decision on employment will be made until all information has been reviewed." Claire nodded, jotting down the key points. "So essentially," she began, "Zane is the one who enforced that clause because he believed my personal, after hours conduct was inappropriate?" Allison dipped her head slightly. "Mr Henry made an immediate decision based on the information he had at the time. He must believe that sleeping with talent behind closed doors for two months could not be treated with inaction." Claire squeezed her fingers together under the table to keep calm. "May I clarify something with you, Ms Pionte? I don't ordinarily make an issue of discussing my sex life with my employers, because frankly it has never been raised. But earlier you asked me how long I had been engaged in a romantic relationship with Jon. I gave you the honest reply of two months. However it is inaccurate for yourself or Zane to assume that is how long we have been sleeping together." Allison raised her eyebrows and wrote something on her notepad. "Is this something you care to elaborate on, Miss Harris?" Claire felt her knee bounce up and down under the table. "Only slightly, at this stage. Jon and I had been seeing each other and dating, like regular people, for a while before anything turned physical. So if yourself or Zane have visions of us in darkened supply cupboards backstage for two months, then I'd appreciate the record being set straight on that." Allison nodded, making notes. "So you are suggesting your relationship with Mr Good was not sexual in nature initially?" Claire shook her head. "I'm not suggesting it. I'm stating it. That's a fact." Allison made a soft noise while she added that to her pad, then looked up at Claire. "If everything was innocent and legitimate, why was the relationship kept secret?" Claire felt her nostrils flare. _I feel like I'm on trial for murder._ "Kept secret and not widely publicized are two different things, Ms Pionte. How many of your boyfriends did you tell everyone you worked with about after your first date? I didn't want everyone knowing until I knew I was sure how I felt, until I was sure about what I wanted, and what Jon wanted. It wasn't in any way an underhand tactic to keep it from Zane. From anyone. In fact, a handful of people did know." Allison suddenly stopped writing to ask her next question. "So you have witnesses?" Claire couldn't help but scoff quietly under her breath. "I have friends." She held Allison's gaze for a long time, and could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "Well, thank you for your insight, Miss Harris. This will all be valuable."

Allison led Claire out of the room, reminding her that she could expect to hear something next week. _So until then I just twiddle my thumbs?_ Claire shook Allison's hand again and was just about to walk up the hall to the elevator when she heard someone call her name. "Claire?" Her head snapped quickly in the direction of the voice, and her mouth fell open slightly when she saw who had spoken it. "Ah, Stephanie. Hi. What are you doing here?" Claire asked, suddenly nervous as all hell. Stephanie walked towards her. "I own the company," Stephanie said, matter of factly. Claire winced internally. _That was dumb._ "More importantly, what are you doing here?" Stephanie asked, looking from her to Allison and back again. Claire felt her heart race. "I've just got some time off so came in to the office." _Not a lie…._ Stephanie raised her eyebrows and over-exaggerated her nod. "Do you have five minutes to come to my office? There's something I'd like to talk to you about," Stephanie said, as Allison smiled politely and returned to her office. "Sure," Claire replied. She could feel her breathing increase rapidly as she followed Stephanie down the hall. Stephanie dialled a number on her cellphone and asked someone to push out her 4pm meeting. _Oh god, I'm causing her to rearrange her schedule. This is not good._ Stephanie led her into a large, glass-paned office in the corner of the building. It had a great view of the city, but she knew she wouldn't have the chance to admire it. "What's going on, Claire?" Stephanie started after the door was closed. "I know what Allison's job is. Tell me why you needed to meet with her."


	41. Man to man

Jon didn't notice that he had been bouncing the back of his head softly against the wall for a while. He was checking the clock on the hotel bedside table every few minutes. It was currently 4.03pm Eastern. _What the hell could they be talking about for this long?_ He was kicking himself about not being able to speak to Claire before she went in to the meeting, but at least she'd seen his text messages. It relaxed him slightly that at least she knew he was thinking about her. _This is all happening very quickly_. _The big wigs aren't wasting any time._ He didn't know much about HR policies, and wondered who was driving all of this. Zane? The HR team? Steph and Hunter? He didn't even know if they'd been told yet. He checked the clock again. 4.07. _Come on, Claire… What's taking so long?_ He wanted to believe a long meeting swayed things in her favour. He knew if the company was going to be heavy-handed about this, it would all be over quickly; she'd definitely be out of there by now. Claire was good with words, and he could only hope she was doing some top level sweet talking.

He'd not been able to shake the guilt he'd been feeling since Tuesday night. He'd had a busy day at the convention meet and greet but it didn't help his mind from straying to their predicament. _This is all my fault. If I didn't have a reason for her to keep me secret, this wouldn't have been an issue. Or at least it would've been addressed earlier and not got out of hand._ Claire had wisely wanted time to work out her feelings before her boss found out she was seeing the resident man whore of the roster. He whacked his head harder against the wall. He never thought his past would come back to ruin his future; it had all been in good fun and no one had got hurt. But now, the only woman he had ever truly cared about was sitting in some stuffy corporate office in Connecticut fighting for her career. Because of him. He wished he knew more about employment law and contracts. _Don't they have warnings for this kind of thing?_ 4.10. Even if Claire did receive a warning, what were they meant to do? Stop seeing each other? Or if they were to stay together, she'd have to find a new job? _No way. That's not happening._ Multiple outcomes flew through his mind when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. 4.12.

Jon had only half-opened the door when he realised it was Zane standing on the other side, and he immediately tried to close it again. Zane held his hand out to stop it. "Come on Jon, you and I need to talk," Zane said through the tiny gap in the door. _I don't need to talk to you, unless it's with my fists,_ Jon thought as he walked away from the door, leaving it ajar. Zane took his opportunity and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Jon was interested to hear what managerial bullshit he was going to throw at him. He didn't usually do house shows, so his presence was clearly some sort of statement. Zane sat on the chair by the television, and beckoned Jon to sit also. "I'll stand," he said, sternly. Zane sighed. "Look, I know things are going to be awkward tonight so I wanted to clear the air before we even get there, okay?" Jon said nothing. Zane shifted in his seat. "I didn't have a choice on Tuesday, Jon. I actually did what I did for her benefit." Jon couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Don't for one minute make yourself out as a hero. You weren't thinking of anything else other than enforcing your authority." He watched Zane shake his head. "That's not it at all. I realise you're going to be clouded by bias, but think about it. After the way it had come out, in front of everyone, it would've been a very difficult work environment for Claire that night. You know what innuendo can be like." Jon's eyes darted away from him quickly, realising he had a point. "But still. If you were thinking of her, you'd not have gone running to Connecticut, and she wouldn't be talking to suits as we speak. I know you're not on her side here." Zane's brow furrowed momentarily. He also seemed surprised Claire was meeting the HR team already. He carried on regardless. "Look, she's not going to lose her job today, it just doesn't work like that. They'll just be gathering evidence, if you want to look at it that way." _Holy shit. She's not killed anyone._ "So why has she been in there two hours? Why is this taking so long?" Jon couldn't hide the frustration in his voice. He knew he couldn't remain reasonable at the moment, not without knowing what the outcome of the meeting was. Zane answered him. "These things take time, Jon. There's all sorts of hoops and paperwork to go through."

There was a long silence where neither man said anything. Jon didn't feel he'd got what he wanted from Zane. "Why are you here? What is it that you think you're going to say that will 'clear the air'?" Zane swallowed. "I wanted you to know that I like Claire. I rate her. She does good work. I know you don't know or care much about what our team does, but…" Jon cut him off, raising his voice. "Then why did you suspend her? What you're saying and what you did aren't matching up, Zane." Zane flicked his hands in defeat, as Jon walked towards the window, having grown uncomfortable being so close to him. He checked the clock. 4.19. "I didn't have a choice. Her behaviour has brought the professionalism of the team into question. We're trying to prove that we're professionals and what we do is important to the company, important to all of you and your characters. To have her sleeping with the talent like she's nothing more than a fangirl, an easy lay; it undoes all of that work." Jon felt his jaw tighten and shoulders tense. "Be very careful what you say next," he said flatly, turning to look at Zane over his shoulder with narrow eyes. "Oh come on, Jon," Zane said, almost chuckling, trying to ease the rising tension in the room. "You've not got the greatest reputation, you've owned up to that countless times. What do you think her colleagues thought of her when they found out? They know they type of girl you go for, so you can only imagine what they were thinking." Jon didn't know if that was more insulting to Claire or to him. If it was him, at least he deserved it. "I want you to listen to me very carefully," he said, the words coming out of his mouth bitterly. He took a couple of steps towards where Zane was sitting, but left a respectful distance. "If you ever say anything like that about her again, I will knock your teeth out, and not give a shit who finds out about it."

Zane didn't flinch. Instead, a smirk appeared on his face and he raised his eyebrows. "Holy shit, it's true, isn't it?" Jon frowned. "It really is about more than just her pussy," Zane said, leaning back in the chair. "I never thought I'd see the day... Claire was right." _Right about what?_ Jon wanted to deck Zane straight in the jaw. His confusion must've displayed on his face, because Zane explained himself. "She was telling me that it wasn't just sex; that you were a changed man and things were getting serious. I didn't believe her, well, because, why would I? We were talking about Dean Ambrose. Jon Moxley. Jon Good. Serious doesn't belong in the same sentence." Jon flexed his hands which had been balled into tight fists. "What else did she tell you?" he asked angrily. He could see Zane searching his memory. "That she wouldn't risk her career on something, on someone, that didn't matter to her." Jon's face softened slightly. _She really said that about me?_ He shook his head quickly to regain concentration on the man in front of him. He looked smug, like the power was back in his hands. "I guess I'm witnessing history here, huh? You're working out how to use that heart of yours." Jon didn't like his tone. He didn't like any of this. He wanted him out of his room, now. He wanted Claire to call. 4.27. He definitely didn't want Zane to have the last word though. "If you're looking for a confession," he started, "then yeah, things are different with her. And it's because of that that you need to watch your step. If anything happens to her, then you better know I'll be gunning for you."

Zane held Jon's eye contact for a moment, before standing up. "I'll see myself out." Jon stepped aside to let him pass. "Don't bother coming to look for me tonight," he said as Zane approached the door. "I am not in the mood for any pictures." He had his back to Zane so couldn't see his reaction, but he heard the door open. "Oh, and Zee?" he asked, half-turning towards the door. "Seeing as you care so much about your team members, you oughta know that if I'm ever in the same room as Carl, I will render him useless with my bare hands." Zane held his stare for a brief moment, then looked to the floor, before walking out, pulling the door behind him.

Jon ran his hand through his hair. That had been a tense exchange, which only added to his unease of not hearing from Claire. He sat down on the bed, took a swig from his water bottle and checked the clock. 4.30pm Eastern. He would need to start getting himself ready for the show soon. _Come on Claire… Kick her ass already, get the hell out of there and call me._


	42. Behind closed doors

Stephanie's eyes widened and she cocked her head slightly. She was silent for a brief moment. "Well, I guess you should be congratulated," she said, bringing her eyes back to Claire. "I had absolutely no idea. Which is rare, the way news travels around this place." Claire sighed. "My guess is that has probably changed over the last few days," she said quietly. She'd just told Stephanie about her relationship with Jon, and felt strangely comfortable doing so after her meeting with Allison. Stephanie was a familiar face and had never made Claire feel intimidated. She'd never conveyed the 'big boss' authoritative feel to Claire. Sure, they'd never gone out for dinner or a drink, but she'd always seemed to respect the staff and their role in keeping the company turning over. When Claire had covered Authority storylines, she'd always marvelled at Steph's ability to turn the bitch on and off in an instant. She was completely different away from a camera, and she found herself hoping that was the case now as well.

"So, what did Allison have to say?" Stephanie asked, wheeling her chair closer to Claire. "She mainly just asked questions about how our team meeting went," Claire said, unsure if she should make eye contact with Stephanie. "Zane has stood me down so as a matter of course, I had to meet with her and explain my side of the story." Steph seemed surprised. "Zane stood you down? On what grounds?" she asked. _Right?_ Claire asked herself, happy that Steph was also questioning the suspension. "As Allison explained, he has the right to do so if he believes one of his employee's behaviour has brought the team or company into disrepute." She looked up cautiously. A few moments passed. "That's ridiculous," Stephanie replied. "As far as I'm concerned, your relationship brings less disrepute to the company than Jon's previous behaviour of sleeping with fans in every town." Her face changed as she caught herself on what she'd just said. "Sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to judge." Claire shrugged softly. "There's no denying the truth about his past." _Even the boss thinks he's a sleaze. He must've really made a name for himself._ "On that," Stephanie began, interrupting Claire's thoughts. "I must say I didn't peg you as his type. Or more accurately, peg him as your type. I don't mean to pry, but how did this all come about?"

Claire breathed deeply. She didn't like revealing the ins and outs of their relationship to people, but here she was for the second time today, about to tell it all again. And to her boss' boss' boss, no less. The Chief Brand Officer. "I wish I could tell you how it started," she began, looking out the window. "I didn't intend for it to happen. But we got to know each other away from the arenas, and there was just something about him. I couldn't do anything to stop it." She trailed off. She could feel a lump building in her throat. She needed to change the subject. Steph was looking at her with interest. "It's all happened quite quickly, then? I mean you've only been on the road what, two months?" "Almost three," Claire said, perhaps too adamantly. "And believe it or not, I actually put up a bit of a fight initially." She felt herself let out a little chuckle, and saw Steph had a soft grin on her face too. "I wanted to focus on my job, on my career, and I wasn't about to become a notch on anyone's bedpost. Especially his. But he told me he was trying to be different now, that he was going to prove it. And I believe he has." She looked at Stephanie again, trying to gauge her reaction. "Call me a fool, if you like. Pretty much everyone else has." She blinked heavily to try and push back the tears which had crept into her vision. "But they don't know him like I do. They don't see what I see." She thought of Jon; he'd be sitting in a hotel room somewhere in Kansas waiting to hear from her. Things would be icy around whoever had been assigned to cover his rotation and it would make things difficult for him. She pictured him having to deal with questionable looks from the staff. _That will be hell for him._ She felt her bottom lip quiver, and bit it in an effort to keep her composure.

Claire felt Stephanie place a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you're a fool, Claire," she said softly. Claire turned to face her, trying to control the emotion on her face. Stephanie continued. "I think you've got your head screwed on. That's why I've always requested you for our storylines. You know how to get a good result. You're not afraid to push the boundaries. You do your research. You challenge us. Not like most of the others, who just spit out the easiest thing they can, or whatever we tell them to do. You know what you're doing." Claire smiled softly, hoping those were genuine opinions and not just words Steph used to avoid having to deal with tears in her office. "Look, I might be a bitch on screen, I might be your boss, I might be an owner of this company, but above all of that, I'm a woman. I'm a wife and mother. I have feelings. Don't think I've not been in a similar position as you." This caught Claire by surprise. _How could she ever have been facing losing her job?_ "You're a McMahon. Your job would have never been on the line like this." That was a question more than a statement. Steph's head bowed in acknowledgement of that. "True, but it's because I'm a McMahon that I questioned myself when I had feelings for Paul." Claire's eyes widened. _What?_ "It's true," she continued. "We'd known each other and worked together for a long time. It was only a script that brought us closer together." Claire looked at her face; it was soft and full of compassion. "You're right. I'm the boss' daughter. I was heir to a fortune. I would inherit it all one day. I knew that. I felt that pressure. I felt it so heavily. I knew I was meant to find some other Fortune 500 heir and marry into a family even more elite than ours. But here I was, falling for a dirty, long haired wrestler. One of the pawns of Dad's game." There was a pause. _When did this turn into This is Your Life?_ Claire found herself wondering. _Why is she telling me this?_ "And even then, he wasn't really truly available, if you know what I mean. Us getting together wasn't a popular outcome in the locker room, or the boardroom." Claire remembered that Triple H had an on and off screen relationship with Chyna, back when she watched WWE in her early teens. "No one thought it was right, other than Paul and I. So I know what you mean about not being able to do anything to stop it. That's exactly what happened to me." Claire didn't know what to say. The most senior woman in the company, someone she idolised, had just shared a very personal story with her. And they had something in common. Stephanie wheeled even closer. "I know what you mean, that my job was never in question. But my reputation, and respect for me, was. I felt it from all angles. But," she said, leaning across to place a hand on Claire's leg, "you can't help who you fall in love with, can you?"

 _Who you fall in love with._ Those words hit Claire like a slap to the face. She felt the air escape her lungs. _In love._ She stared at the table in front of her. _I'm in love with him._ She swallowed _. I'm in love with him and it looks like I might lose the job that brought us together._ She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes, and she couldn't stop the sob which had built in her throat. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sniffed softly. Her head fell forward into her hands; her fingers wiping away the tears. She sucked her lips in, trying to regain control of her emotions. She felt keenly aware of where she was and who she was crying in front of. "What's going to happen to me?" she asked, her voice quiet and childlike. She looked sideways at Stephanie, and was surprised by the amount of compassion on her face. Stephanie brought her hand up to Claire's back, and rubbed it gently a couple of times. In that moment, Claire didn't see her as her boss. She just saw her as a woman who could understand her feelings and confusion. "Allison is very good at her job, Claire. I'm going to let her do her thing, and we'll see what the result is. But I can assure you I'll be keeping a very close eye on the outcome." Claire looked up at her through watery eyes, and nodded softly. _I get it._ _Got to let the processes run their course._

A few minutes passed, and Claire had regained her composure somewhat. "You might like to use the mirror over there," Steph said, pointing towards a wall. _I probably look hideous,_ Claire thought. _I'm such an ugly crier. There will mascara waterfalls on my face._ She smiled politely at Stephanie and made use of the Kleenex on the shelf under the mirror. She did the best she could to make herself presentable again, before turning to face Stephanie. "There, good as new, huh?" Steph said with a soft smile on her face. Claire returned it. There was a short silence while she adjusted her outfit. She made eye contact with Stephanie, and felt a warmth in her chest. They'd both shared personal stories, and she only hoped Steph would keep it between them the way she herself intended to. "I bet you're a really great mother," Claire said with a soft chuckle, acknowledging the way Steph had calmed her down. Stephanie smiled. "It does help when you have a great example to learn from," she said softly. "Now come here," she said, placing her arms around Claire quickly. "Don't tell anyone I have a heart, okay?" Claire giggled, nodding her compliance. They made their way towards the door. "Oh, and you're not going to mention that I cried and ruined my mascara in your office, are you?" she asked hopefully. Stephanie smiled kindly. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Claire returned her grin, and Stephanie opened the door for her. "I'll keep in touch, Miss Harris," she said, her voice professional in front of her administrative staff. "Thank you, Stephanie," Claire replied, returning the professionalism, hoping her face displayed the extent of her genuine appreciation.

/

A/N: Thank you again for the lovely reviews – the regulars and the newcomers, and the guests with the lovely comments too (I'd send you a personal reply if I could!) The updates may not be coming as regularly as they were initially, but that's because I want to make sure the characters are getting to the end point I have for them in the best way possible. In the meantime, would be interested to hear from you as to what you want to happen! Thanks and love, KS.


	43. Long distance

Claire sunk back into her sofa, bringing her phone with her. She'd been home less than five minutes and had already changed out of her formal clothes, tied up her hair and poured herself a glass of wine. She felt absolutely shattered. It had been a long, emotional day. She dialled Jon's number, leaning in against the pillows.

/

Jon saw the screen on his phone flash before he even heard the ringtone. The picture of him and Claire at the top of the mountain in Atlanta brought out a loud sigh. 4.48. He'd been holding his breath for a long time. "Hi," he said, sitting himself down on the bed. "Hey," Claire replied. He couldn't work out from that one word if things were good or bad. "How are you doing?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Never mind me, what happened in there? Why the hell did it take so long?" _Don't get angry at her,_ he told himself. He had been desperate to hear what happened and that frustration came out in his tone. "I am at home now. I was there longer than I expected so I wanted to get home before calling you so I could beat the traffic, although that didn't work out as well as I planned." _I don't care about the traffic, Claire…._ "So what happened? What was this woman like?" He lay back on the bed as Claire began to tell him about what this Allison woman had asked. "So she did all the talking?" he asked her. "Essentially. Everything I said she wrote down. And then she pretty much said it was over and I could leave. Until I told her I had some questions of my own." _Good on you, girl_ , Jon thought to himself. He had seen Claire stand up for herself if necessary, but he also knew she didn't like causing a scene. He had hoped she would be able to get past her nerves and make sure she got the answers she needed. "I'm glad it wasn't all one way traffic, then," he replied. "It totally would've been if I hadn't have spoken up. I would've been out of there in about 30 minutes." She told him about how she had made it clear that they had been seeing each other for a while before things got physical. "I think she had this vision of us banging in the locker rooms on the clock or something," she said, laughing. Despite knowing this lady would've thought that because of his reputation, he smiled. He'd not heard Claire laugh like that in a few days, and it was a relief to hear it again.

"The thing that kept me so long was that we bumped into Stephanie on the way out," he heard her say down the phone. Jon frowned. "What was she doing there?" Claire chuckled. "I asked the same thing, and she told me she owns the company. Of course it isn't unusual to see her there." Jon felt his pulse quicken a little. "What did she want?" he asked. Claire told him that she was pulled into Steph's office. The fact she'd not started with this statement baffled Jon. _Surely Steph would have the final say on anything, either way?_ "She and I got talking, and I actually felt a lot better afterwards. I told her the whole story and she was surprised, like everyone else, but she is the only person in the last few days who hasn't wildly overreacted." Jon relaxed a little. "So what? She's okay with it all? Is she going to fix it?" He heard Claire swallow something, and smiled. He hoped it was an alcoholic beverage, to take the edge off the day she'd had. "She said she's going to let Allison do her job, and she'll be keeping a close eye on the outcome." _That doesn't sound helpful._ "So was it a positive thing, then? If she wanted, she could overrule all of this," he stated. "Mmmm," Claire mumbled down the phone. "We had a really good chat, actually. Almost like a heart to heart. You're gonna laugh at me for this, but I cried in her office. Can you believe that? I cried in the office of a McMahon."

/

Claire laughed softly, recalling the state of her face in Stephanie's mirror. "I don't think it's funny when you cry," Jon said, the sincerity of his statement bringing a flush to her cheeks. _He doesn't even know… He can blow me away with just a simple line like that._ "I just meant… Never mind." She took another sip of her wine, letting it swirl around her tastebuds. "She and I have more in common than I thought," she said, wanting to tell Jon everything they'd discussed but not wanting to say too much. Not only about what Stephanie had said, but what she'd made her realise. She didn't want to tell Jon down the phone. "Is that right?" Jon asked with a dubious tone in his voice. "Not from my end," he added. "For starters, nothing about you is fake, on the inside or the outside." Claire almost spat out her mouthful. "That is your boss you're talking about!" she giggled. He laughed too, which was good to hear. She could tell he was tense, and she felt bad that she had been the cause of it. She'd not had the greatest day of her life, but she knew it would've been easier to be in her shoes than waiting by the phone all day.

"So how has your day been?" she asked him, hoping to change the subject so she didn't have to hide what she and Steph had discussed. "Oh you know, same shit, different day. Flight delay, workout in a shitty hotel gym. Spend hours waiting for a phone call…." Claire screwed her face up. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "Not your fault, I'm just glad you weren't crucified," he replied. "Oh, and I had my own high powered meeting today." Claire's eyes narrowed, trying to think which senior manager would possibly make an appearance on his rotation "What? With who?" Jon's voice was flat. "Your boss." _So Zane has taken my place… That's not good._ "What did he want with you? Surely his problem lies with me." However, she could just imagine Zane showing up to talk to Jon, trying to keep him on side. _Wonder how that worked out, neither would back down from a bit of confrontation._ "He claimed he wanted to clear the air, but I don't think that was ever going to happen," Jon said. "Basically he wanted to make sure I wasn't going to punch him tonight." A smirk rose on Claire's face. "So will you?" she asked, taking another sip. "More likely to now than I was before," Jon said. "Tell me what happened," Claire said immediately. She didn't like the sound of where this was heading. "Nothing happened, other than him coming in here and running his mouth about you. And me. So I put him in his place." Claire rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, and how did that work out?" She heard Jon scoff down the phone. "Let's just say you won't be seeing anything of me on social media tonight." _That doesn't surprise me…_ "Just remember that's my boss, Jonny. For now, anyway." She bit her lip, trying not to think about the outcome. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "That's why I only threatened to knock him out, and didn't actually do it." She couldn't help but laugh. _One day, he'll realise not everything needs to be settled with his fists._

/

Jon looked at the clock. "I got about an hour to kill before heading down. We got some kids showing up before the show that I gotta meet." "Just don't threaten to punch them too, okay?" Claire giggled down the phone. He scoffed in jest. He wouldn't have actually hit Zane. He knew that would cause more trouble than it would be worth. Hopefully he was going to be Claire's boss for a long time after this. _Unless she takes his job too, one day soon._ He didn't want to make anything more difficult for her than it needed to be. _Carl on the other hand…._ He hoped like hell he wasn't going to show at RAW. _Hopefully Zane at least took that threat seriously._ "What are you going to do with yourself tonight?" he asked her. Claire told him she had a bottle of wine and a whole series of Broad City to get through. "Sounds like a boomin' Friday night," he replied, his voice heavy. He'd give anything to be in that shoebox studio with her, watching whatever the hell Broad City was. He loved wrestling every night, but he knew where his heart would be tonight. There was a long pause. "I miss you," she said softly. He felt a pang in his chest, and nodded. "I miss you too," he returned. "Wish I was there with you." _Holding your hand, kissing your forehead, holding you in my arms…_ He thought these things but couldn't say them. He was no good with that kind of stuff."No, I wish I was there with you," he heard Claire say, and he knew that's the way it should be. They should both be in Kansas, getting a coffee or watching a hockey replay while Claire did her pre-show research, and getting room service dessert. They should be delighting in the fact she was back on his rotation, with no Lucy waiting for her to return to their hotel room. _She could've been sleeping in this bed next to me, after I'd made her moan, sweaty and out of breath. Instead, we're 1000 miles apart._ "Yeah, you should. And you will be soon."

/

Claire sank back into the sofa after saying goodbye to Jon. He was going to call her again after the show, if she was still awake. She toyed with the idea of downing the rest of the bottle of wine, but she knew then there'd be no chance of being awake when he called. She topped her glass and put the bottle back in the fridge. Falling back into position on the sofa, with her legs tucked under her, she thought back over the events of the day. She hoped she'd done a good enough job at convincing Allison Pionte. She needed to know when, or if, she'd be back at work. She'd only had three days of doing nothing and it was already driving her to drink. She distracted herself by looking up flights to Vegas for Wednesday. Jon had said he wanted to come to Stamford on his days off, but she begged to go to his place. She was wanting to get out of her house already; she definitely didn't want to know what she would be like come Wednesday, even with him as a happy distraction. _God, Allison. Do me a favour and don't drag this out…._


	44. Game time

Jon drove his rental into the parking lot of the RAW venue. His rotation had put on a Friday and a Sunday show, and he'd driven Barrett, Sheamus and Kevin Owens to the next town ready for TV. He'd welcomed the distraction of their low brow banter during the drive. He'd found being in his own mind too much over the weekend. Saturday especially. He wasn't in the mood for other people, and his mind kept going over and over Claire's predicament. The only relief he got from his own thoughts was talking to her, and they'd spent three hours on FaceTime across Saturday and Sunday. He had no idea how she wasn't losing the plot holed up at home by herself.

He parked up the rental and got his bag out of the back seat. He checked his phone for a message from Claire. He was aware that she'd probably find tonight especially hard, knowing she was meant to be here. Nothing from her, but there was a message from Hunter.  
 _When you get to the arena, come find our office. I want to run something past you._  
This wasn't a surprise to Jon; he was working with Hunter on camera at the moment. He wondered what change he would have to the script. The pair were both good on the mic, and Hunter was happy to let Jon go off script. He trusted him to bounce back with a quality promo. Jon was thriving on it. It was the only thing which had excited him since last Tuesday. He headed inside, found his locker room and dropped his bag off. He contemplated texting Claire, but there was plenty of time before the show. He'd call her soon.

He wandered the venue, following the directional signs on the wall. _It's actually someone's job to post these arrows and signs on the wall. What do they tell their parents? They travel the country making arrows out of tape._ He rounded a few corners and found the door to Hunter and Steph's office. It had already been decked out with a "The Authority" name plate. He knocked, and recognised Hunter's voice calling him in. "Hey Jon," he said, looking up from his seat. He was reading the script, by the looks of things, and Jon was glad he'd brought his copy so they could review together. "Take a seat," Hunter said, himself getting up and leaning against a desk in the corner of the room. Jon shut the door behind him. "I've read through this," he said, hitting the script against his palm, "and I reckon there's so much scope for us to take this up a notch." Hunter put his script on the desk beside him. "This isn't about the script, Jon." His tone was serious and it made Jon look up at him. He knew as soon as their eyes met what he wanted to talk about. "We're in a bit of a sticky situation here," Hunter said. Jon leaned back in the seat, screwing his script in his hand. He sighed heavily. "Are you gonna tell me that I shouldn't have preyed on the new girl? That I should've stuck to the ring rat trash?" Hunter raised his hand. "Stop talking. You just need to listen."

Jon threw his head back. He had no idea where this was going to go but he knew he wasn't going to like it. Hunter grabbed a new stack of papers from his desk and began to talk. "Look, I'm about to do you a favour, but I need to know you'll listen to what I have to say, okay?" Jon rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek, and locked eyes with him, showing he was all ears. He respected Hunter. He'd idolised him since his teens, and he was turning out to be alright as a corporate, too. He cared about the business, and he cared about the roster. He sighed. _Let's just make this quick._ "You've gotta watch your step man," Hunter said with a soft shake of his head. "You can't go around making threats all the time. Especially with the position you're in." Jon frowned. "What do you know, Paul?" he asked, his voice level. "Put me on the same page as you." Hunter handed him a piece of paper, which looked like a printed email. "I know that the staff member you physically assaulted last week has laid a complaint against you." "What?!" Jon felt a heat rise in his cheeks. _That piece of shit._ His eyes ran over the email, with key words jumping out at him. _Behind. Aggression. Wrist. Profanities. Broken. Bullying. Threat._ "This is ridiculous," he said, slamming the piece of paper on the seat beside him. "Do you know what he did?" Hunter nodded. "I know the whole story, Jon. I gotta say, I didn't see you landing someone like Claire." _Join the club._ He continued. "Regardless of what he did, you were out of line, Jon. You can't walk around telling people you're going to break their face. You wanna be champion here? We can't have our champions kicking the shit out of the staff. You're not stupid, you know that."

Jon was silent for a long time. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to say that Carl deserved more than what actually happened, but Hunter wouldn't have agreed. Breaking the silence, Hunter spoke up. "And I believe you've said similar things to Zane." Jon rolled his eyes. "Come on, I wouldn't actually hit Zane, he knows that." Hunter raised his eyebrows. "But you'd hit Carl?" _Yeah, if I had the chance._ "I want to. But I probably wouldn't. For her." A wry smile appeared on Hunter's face. "So she's tamed you, has she? We're all very intrigued by this, you know. It's totally not you." He was smirking, trying to contain a laugh. Jon sighed angrily. "I'm sick of this shit, man. What's the big deal? I was a single man doing what single men do. I am not the only one around here who takes advantage of the line outside the door. Hell, I bet you did the same in your day." Hunter's head dipped slightly in acknowledgment. "But this isn't about me. We all had our fun when we could. Until we met someone who changed it all." Jon knew he was talking about Stephanie, but his own mind flicked to Claire. _She certainly has changed that part of me,_ he thought. _She's the only person who thinks I'm capable of being in a normal relationship._ "So what's the deal, then? Carl lays a complaint, maybe Zane too, and I can like, what, say I'm sorry and pay a fine or something? Or attend a wanky anger management course and say I'll never do it again?" Hunter's face had turned serious again. "Carl's thinking about pressing charges, Jon. This could get bigger than just inside the company." _That f-king asshole._ "That's bullshit. Do you know what he did, Paul? And not just in the meeting. He's been trying to take Claire down for a long time because he's threatened by the fact she does his job better than her. Screw suspending her for unprofessional behaviour. He's the one who has been acting like a f-king spoilt brat. Even Zane could tell you that. He can't get out of this unscathed." He threw his arms hard into the seat to alleviate the fury which had built within him.

Hunter had remained calm. "I wasn't aware of that," he started, with a pensive look on his face. "However, that doesn't mean you can go around saying you're going to flatten him." _Is provocation a viable defence? Because I think it is..._ Hunter continued. "Don't forget. The same man who suspended Claire is capable of utilizing the very same clause on Carl if he believes his behaviour is severe enough." _Interesting. Maybe I need to talk to Zane again..._ "But," Hunter said, quite sharply. "None of that is up to you. You just need to control what you can control. Right now, that's your fists and the words coming out of your mouth." Jon was staring a hole into the floor in front of him. He felt like he was being reprimanded over nothing. _Now I know what Claire feels like..._ "So, as a heads up, there will be people here tomorrow before the taping who you're going to have to meet with. And they'll be talking to Carl and Zane too, getting the whole picture." Jon rubbed a hand across his forehead and over his eyes while Hunter continued. "I wanted to give you a heads up. My advice: Be on your best behaviour, and make sure you've got your story straight."

"What's going to happen to her, Paul? She's being burnt at the stake for dating someone?" He saw Hunter's demeanour change. "I don't know, that's out of our hands." "Bullshit," Jon spat out immediately. "You're married into the McMahons. You can make or break or save anyone in this company." Hunter nodded slightly. "True, but not without good reason. For talent, it's different. But for Claire's position, well there's thousands of people who could do her role, and would kill to. It could be difficult to justify keeping her in place of someone else." Jon's chest was rising and falling rapidly in time with his breathing. "So she's replaceable, that's what you're saying? That's how you view your staff? Like a long production line?" Hunter let him get it all out. "Because that's bullshit, Paul. And what the f-k has she even done wrong? Her biggest crime is not telling the world about her private life? Huh? Is that the problem?" Hunter sighed heavily. "Jon, your emotions are getting in the way here. Just calm down and focus on what you need to do. Claire can focus on what she needs to do. And the HR team will focus on what they need to do. If, as you say, there's been a massive injustice, I'm sure it'll all work out fine." Jon closed his eyes for a long moment. "And everything will go back to the way it was this time last week?" The corners of Hunter's mouth turned down in contemplation. "I'd hope so, but no one could guarantee that. She might be in the same role, but people might treat her differently. Both of you. It won't be like before. You're not going to be able to act like nothing ever happened."

 _Like nothing ever happened_. Jon let those words hang in his mind. _Like we never slept together. Like we never had dinner. Like she never beat me in that damn table hockey game_. He thought about how different his last two months would've been if none of that happened. He'd not know how it felt to actually want to hold someone's hand. How much better it was to care about getting a girl across the line. He wouldn't know what a cha cha was or that Snapchat was the fastest growing platform for the company's social media. He definitely wouldn't know how lonely his life was, despite living his dream every night. He'd just be doing his job.

 _And Claire would be doing hers_.


	45. Monday Night Wars

Claire settled in to bed, ready watch RAW. She'd changed her mind throughout the day as to if she wanted to put herself through it, but Jon had told her he was heavily involved in the opening and closing segments, so she wanted to watch him. Lucy had sent her a text earlier with the allocations and discussions from the planning meeting. The mood had been awkward, apparently, and the tension between Zane and Carl hadn't dissipated. Lucy had been allocated to Jon's storyline, which relieved Claire greatly. There was no way it would've been Carl, and after their clash the previous day, Zane had obviously decided it was best for him to avoid Jon. Claire didn't know how much he thought Lucy knew, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the girls were friends. He probably assumed that out of anyone on the team, Lucy would have the best chance of getting Jon to cooperate. _Ha_ , Claire thought to herself. _Who would've thought that a couple of weeks ago?_

Her phone beeped.  
 _It sucks without you here :(_  
It was Eden. She and Claire had kept in touch over the past few days.  
 _\- Probably not as much as it sucks to be watching the show in bed._  
 _Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry._ _  
_ _\- Don't be. So does everyone know_?  
 _Not sure about everyone. But a few are talking. Don't worry, I'll put them straight._  
Claire smiled. Eden had an incredibly protective nature. _Probably comes with the territory of being married to a Superstar._ _  
_ _\- You probably shouldn't. I don't wanna drag you into all this too._  
 _Honey I'd do it in an instant. I won't have any rumors flying around. None of this is fair._ _  
_ _You're right about that_ , Claire agreed. She wondered how many people were talking.  
 _\- Can I ask a favour, please?_ _  
_ _Sure, anything_.  
Claire blinked, trying to rid herself of the water building in her eyes.  
 _\- Can you check in on him for me, please? He's probably an angry SOB tonight and it'd be nice to know someone will stop him from doing anything stupid._ _  
_ _Deal. Me and C will look after him. Miss you x_  
Claire sighed and threw her phone down onto the bed. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and pictured backstage right now. A rush of staff and techies; noise from the crowd seeping behind the curtain; various talent warming up in hallways. Her heart ached; it wasn't just Jon she was missing.

/

"Shouldn't you have been here before now?" Jon mumbled angrily at Lucy. She'd just knocked on his door, two minutes before he was going to head to curtain. "I've been busy. We're a team member down," she snapped. Jon narrowed his eyes. _Like I need reminding_. "My call is in one minute, so I hope you just want a shot of me walking down a hall." He strode past her and shoved the door open, hearing it hit the wall in response. He heard Lucy come running after him. "Don't get your balls in a twist with me, I've got nothing to do with this," she said, unable to keep up with him. He turned sharply, taking her by surprise. She almost walked into him. "Don't you?" he asked, looking down at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, lowering her clipboard and locking eyes with him. He scoffed _. She's either stupid, or thinks I'm stupid_. "How did Carl know Claire and I were sleeping together? Huh?" Lucy shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. He has been out with us when you two couldn't stop eye f-king each other. He might be an asshole but he's not blind." Jon thought about that; it could be the truth, but he highly doubted that Lucy didn't confirm it. His lips were pressed into a firm line. "I don't trust you," he grumbled. Lucy scoffed. "Well I don't trust you, so we're even." His face grew into an involuntary snarl. _How could Claire be friends with this bitch?_ _She makes my blood boil._ "If I find out that you were talking to him while you two were banging in broom cupboards..." Lucy cut him off. "You'll what? What will you do, Jon?" she asked, sarcastically emphasising his name. "You'll threaten to hit me, too?" He felt his eye twitch. _So they have been talking._ "I wouldn't go to the trouble," he replied, his words coming out fast and sour. "I'd just make sure everyone knew whose backstage behaviour really affected the professionalism of the team."

He took a step back from her, attempting to control his temper. He had to be on his best behaviour, and he didn't want to get too wound up before his opening segment. _Too late._ "You're just angry because I'm better at keeping my dirty little secrets than you are." Jon's nostrils flared. "I don't want to keep her a secret," he roared. Lucy's facials changed, and he couldn't read her expression. "Oh my god," she said slowly, taking a step back from him. _Oh your god what?_ "You love her." Jon felt a wave of panic rush through him. His shoulders were rising quickly in time with his breathing. He was suddenly filled with rage. "Don't you?" Lucy asked, repeating herself. "You're in love with her." Jon's hands balled into fists and he whacked them against the outside of his thighs. He stared at her, heat rising in his face. A loud voice pierced his thoughts. "We need Ambrose now!" The sound of Triple H's music filled the corridors and shook him from his thoughts. "Stay the hell away from me," he spat out at Lucy, before storming off towards gorilla.

/

The sound of a chainsaw made Claire sit up eagerly. Like he always tried to do, Jon let the crowd and music intro build, before Dean Ambrose powered on to the stage. He wasn't bouncing or acknowledging the crowd. He had his eyes locked on Triple H. _Jesus, what a sourpuss_ , Claire thought jokingly. She had been keeping an eye on the WWE Instagram account to see Lucy's work. A zoomed image of the back of Dean Ambrose's head, walking down a corridor: 'The Lunatic is in NO mood for anyone!' read the caption. _I can only imagine_ , Claire thought. She hoped he hadn't given Lucy too much trouble. She watched as Hunter and Ambrose traded witty barbs; the two of them being great on the mic and having enough faith in the other to respond if they went off script. She knew Jon was loving this freedom and spotlight. It was a heated exchange, based around Ambrose's unsuitability to be champion. The crowd were hot for Ambrose, cheering and jeering at every point of the exchange. It ended with Triple H placing Ambrose in a match against Sheamus. The show cut to commercial, and Claire sent Jon a text message - three fire emojis. _What a great opening._

/

Jon was sitting on the floor of his locker room when there was a gentle knock at the door. He intended on ignoring it, until the door opened anyway. Eden's head peered around it. She smiled at him gently. "Hey psycho. Way to fire them up out there." She entered the room and softly closed the door behind her. Jon didn't have any response. She sat down on the bench opposite him and they were silent for a moment. "She sent you to check on me, didn't she?" Jon asked, not taking his eyes off the floor. "She may have," Eden began. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be doing it anyway." One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. _Of course Claire would get someone to look out for him, whether he needed it or not_. "I'm alright," he replied. "I don't need babysitting." Eden leaned forward. "It's not babysitting Mox. It's giving you the chance to talk to someone who is on your side, so you don't blow up at the wrong people." _Too late for that_ , he thought. "Have you heard from her?" Eden asked. "She text me just now, and we spoke earlier," he said. Eden's silence caused him to look up at her after a few moments. Her eyes were wide with compassion. "Try not to be so miserable," she said. "No matter how crappy tonight is for you, I guarantee it's worse for her." _Doubt it_ , he thought, recalling his chat with Hunter and run in with Lucy. _Sure, it won't be fun being at home but at least she's not being confronted by people all the time._ _  
_  
Eden sat patiently, looking at him, and he could feel it. "I'm in trouble," he finally said, a defeatist tone to his voice. She sighed gently. "Nothing either of you has done is wrong." She looked at her watch. "I gotta go film something, but you'll come for a drink with us later, right?" He shrugged casually. "I don't have any better offers," he said, and Eden laughed. "Good to see that humor is still there." She looked at him sincerely. "Whether it means anything to you or not, we're on your side. We'll vouch for you both if we need to. I'll see you later."

After she left the room, Jon sighed heavily. _That's not the trouble I'm referring to._ He took out his phone and looked at the message from Claire. He knew he should respond but he didn't know what to say. He pictured her lying on her sofa, watching intently. _Hopefully in her Ambrose gear..._ But it would be quiet and lonely. She'd be waiting to hear from him. She was probably picturing him sitting down at catering now, or watching the show with Cody somewhere. She wouldn't be thinking of him sitting on a concrete floor, face like stone. This whole time, as much as he wanted to believe so, he still doubted he was a good enough man for her. He'd surprised himself with his fidelity and addiction to her. _But that doesn't mean I'm good enough._ _What would a good boyfriend be doing right now?_ He shuddered. He hated that word; it sounded so childish. _Is that where we are though?_ He bounced his leg up and down as he thought about how he would define what Claire was to him and why what Lucy had said earlier had infuriated him so much. It made him remember something he had said to Roman weeks ago; now especially true with her sitting at home, suspended from the job she loves.

 _She's good for me, but I'm no good for her._


	46. Mental maze

When Jon got backstage after the closing segment, Lucy was waiting for him. "Claire text me to say she liked the image from before but would prefer one of your face this time," she said, no sign in her voice that they'd argued earlier. Jon glared at her. "I told you to stay away from me," he mumbled, grabbing a water bottle and walking straight past her. "I'm just doing my job," Lucy called after him. "Come on, do it for Claire." He kept walking, calling out over his shoulder. "I'll send her a f-king selfie." He could feel a few eyes on him as he made his way back to his locker room. _They all know_ , he thought. _Everybody knows about us, and they know why she's not here._

Back at the hotel, he called Claire briefly. "How'd you find the show?" he asked, trying to avoid sensitive topics. "It was alright," she replied. "Your opening and closing were really strong, and Sasha and Becky were great, but the rest fell flat, mostly." He nodded. He felt the same. "Were you good to Lucy?" she asked. _How do I answer that one?_ "It was good that I got her and not Zane or Carl," he said, staring the obvious. They chatted idly about the show for a few minutes, before Jon knew he needed to speak up. "So, I've got some people coming to talk to me tomorrow. From HQ." Claire sounded surprised. He told her about his meeting with Hunter; Carl's threat of charges and the meetings arranged for the following day. "What are you going to say?" she asked, her voice soft. "Depends on what the questions are," he replied. "I'll tell the truth, especially about what Carl's been doing to you." He heard Claire sigh. "This isn't really about Carl though. It's about us." He let that final word swing around his mind a few times. "This is all such bullshit," he finally said, punching his hand into the bed. "Mmmmm," Claire replied, and they sat in silence for a few moments, considering the reality of that statement. "I really miss you," he heard her say softly down the line. "Yeah. I miss you too," he replied. _I'm gonna make this right for you, I promise_.

/

An hour later, Jon was sitting at a corner table in a local bar with Eden and Cody. They'd managed to shake everyone else off, including Lucy. _Thank f-k for that._ Eden was trying to be cheerful, and while he appreciated the effort, it was almost too much for him. He wanted to be back in the hotel room, staring at the ceiling. Cody seemed more in tune with how he was feeling and kept things low key, until his wife asked what Jon was planning to say at the meeting tomorrow. Cody shook his head gently at Eden, but she insisted. "Let us be your sounding board Mox," she said, pushing a drink across the table towards him. "Practice on us." _What am I going to say tomorrow? How honest should I be?_ "I'll just tell the truth. That we got to know each other first, it was a while before we slept together, that none of it was on work time, and that Claire was initially resistant because she didn't want to jeopardize her career." Cody nodded. "Solid, man," he said. "You can't beat the truth." Eden smiled. "You have the chance to be her knight in shining armour here, Mox. You're gonna get her her job back." _That's the intention_ , he thought as he finished his drink.

They'd been at the bar about an hour when Eden took herself to the bathroom. Jon found himself hoping she'd want to go back to the hotel when she returned. He was ready to leave. _I was ready to leave before I even got here._ "You alright man?" Cody asked, looking at Jon as he downed his third drink. "Never better," Jon grumbled, pushing the empty glass across the table. "I can see through your shit, Mox," Cody said, with a quick sideways glance and small, compassionate smile. "It's okay to not be okay with this. It's a shitty situation. All you've done is fall for a girl. And no one can help that. "Jon stared at his empty glass. He didn't want Cody to see any emotion in his eyes, or to give the impression that he couldn't handle this. He'd always handled everything on his own. Cody continued. "Just keep your head tomorrow. They'll be watching for any slip up, and it can be hard to keep your cool when your woman is the topic of conversation." _My woman_. He'd not thought of Claire that way, but it did bring a small grin to his face. "There we go, thank Christ for that," Cody laughed. "Thought you'd forgotten how to smile." _She's the reason I smile, though_. "It'll all work out alright, Mox. That's how love stories go," Cody said with a smirk and cheeky glance. Jon rolled his eyes. _There's that word again_. "Give it a rest," he said, knowing Cody knew exactly what he'd said. Cody smiled. "Okay. So long as you do too," he said motioning towards the empty glasses. "You've had enough."

/

The following day, Jon had been asked to arrive at the Smackdown venue early. He went straight to the arena in a rental rather than check into the hotel. He couldn't face trying to avoid people in hallways, and, bless her for trying, but he didn't want an Eden pep talk. He had driven around town to kill time, and pulled into the arena 20 minutes before he was due to meet with Allison Pionte. He made his way to the function rooms on the mezzanine level of the venue, and waited outside the room he'd been sent via email. He let his head fall back against the wall. _It's like sitting outside the principal's office,_ he thought. He didn't have a game plan. He didn't know what he wanted to say to this woman. He just knew the outcome he wanted.

When the door finally opened, a blonde lady appeared, followed by Carl. Jon felt his eyes narrow. He knew Carl was being interrogated today, as well as Zane, but he didn't think they'd be stupid enough to schedulee them to run into each other. _I still want to punch you_ , Jon tried to convey on his face. One corner of Carl's mouth rose into a smirk. He sent a cocky look Jon's way, before turning to walk down the hall. Jon burnt holes in his back with his eyes. _Smile while you can, boy. You'll get what's coming to you._ He was distracted by a buzz in his pocket.  
 _Kick her ass, remember._  
He sighed heavily. _I'd rather kick Carl's_.

Allison Pionte welcomed him into the room, introducing herself and a man seated at the table wearing a cheap suit. "This is Liam Francis. He's on my team in Connecticut." Jon shook his hand, but didn't really care who he was. He could already feel the formalities of this meeting beginning to choke him. "By this stage, Mr Good, I believe you'll understand why you're here," Allison said, shuffling some papers as she sat down. Jon decided he wasn't going to take any of the corporate bullshit. "I know why you want me here," he said, looking out the window. Allison nodded. "I understand that this past week probably hasn't been easy for you, Mr Good, so we appreciate you meeting with us." She and Liam both looked at him, as if he was expected to say something. "Tell me how Claire can get her job back. That's what we're here for, right?" Allison sighed. "We're not focusing on Miss Harris' job, today," she stated. "We're here to ask you about your interactions with Mr Henry and Mr Griffin." He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Mr Henry and Mr Griffin told you all about those," he said with sarcasm. "We'd like to hear it from your side, Mr Good. We know tensions are high here so we want to make sure we have the whole story." _Yeah right._ "The whole story, huh? Did Carl tell you the whole story?" He looked between Liam and Allison. _They don't even know what an asshole he was to her_. "Please, Mr Good," Allison started. "We need you to tell us what's happened over the past week or so, putting your emotions to the side." _That's not possible,_ Jon thought.

He answered Allison's questions about his run in with Carl last Tuesday night, and his chat with Zane in the hotel room, with Liam recording his answers in a notebook. At no stage did they mention anything about Claire and when she would be back at work. He began to grow restless. "So what happens from here?" he asked. Allison took a breath. "We will review all the information we've gathered and make an assessment from there," she replied. "And what does Claire do in the meantime? When does she get to come back?" "That's unclear at this stage," Allison replied. "But she will be kept fully informed at each stage of the process." Jon slammed his hands on to the table and pushed him chair back. "This is f—king ridiculous. She hasn't done anything wrong!" He let his head hang towards the floor. His mind was spinning with frustration; with heated anger. "Please, Mr Good. I know this isn't easy for you, given your relationship with Miss Harris, but we need you to cooperate." Jon's head snapped up, making eye contact with her. "I don't think you know anything about me, Allison," he said bitterly. "You guys sit over there in Connecticut and think you know what happens out here, but you have no idea. Then you show up, with your ties and your power blazers and your spiral bound compendiums and think we're going to treat you like a greater power? That I'm going to be on my best behaviour and answer all your questions and live with the fact that you won't answer mine? Well that's not how I work." He saw Allison and Liam exchange a glance, then look back to him. He was really getting wound up now. He stood up and pushed his chair hard into the table. "Let me tell you something; if Claire's the one who suffers as a result of this 'process' of yours, then it's royally screwed up. She's the hardest worker in that team and if you let her go, I'll make sure you regret it." He took a moment to collect himself, before turning to Liam. "Make you sure you take that down, okay?" he said, his voice level. "I think we're done here," he added, before turning sharply and walking out of the room. He pulled the door closed hard behind him. Swallowing, he closed his eyes and took a big breath, trying to rid himself of the mess in his mind. A voice pierced his thoughts. "Well, that sounds like it went well."

Hunter was standing across the hall, with some papers in his hand. _For Christ's sake._ Jon looked down the hall to avoid making eye contact with him. He knew Hunter wouldn't have approved of his behaviour during the meeting. "Why are you here?" he asked. "I'm in on this too," Hunter answered. "I'm the one Carl laid his complaint with, so they want to hear from me. They want all sides…" Jon finished the sentence for him. "All sides of the story, yeah yeah. I know. It's f—king bullshit, Paul. And you know it. She doesn't deserve to be treated like a criminal. Why is this taking so long?" Hunter took a step towards him, his eyes soft. "Look, Jon. I'm gonna do what I can to make sure everything works out alright, okay? Just keep your nose clean. Don't go making this any worse than it needs to be." Jon screwed his face up and rubbed his temples. _I've had enough of today._ He sucked his bottom lip in."I get that she matters to you," Hunter added. "No guarantees, but I'll be angling for her to stay." Jon exhaled strongly through his nostrils. "You better," he replied. "You take her away from me, and my world will be as dark as hell. You don't wanna see what I'll be like without her. It'll be like watching a blind man in a maze."

With that, Jon powered off down the hall. He needed to get out of this building. He needed to get out of his own head. _I'm such a f—king fool. This is all my fault. Why did I think I could make this work?_


	47. For her

Following Smackdown, Jon drove his rental to the parking lot of a local burger joint. It was late, and the few customers inside looked like they'd been to the show. He pulled his hat down low and his hoodie over the top, after parking in the furthest spot from the door. He'd wanted somewhere dark and quiet, where he wasn't going to be disturbed. He couldn't escape the feeling that all of this had come about because of him. He'd spent all night going over the events of the day, then debating this next move. He needed to do it while he still had the gumption. It was 50/50 as to if he would stick to his plan.

He dialled Claire's number, and felt mixed emotions at hearing her voice. She sounded happy, and he liked that, but it made the ache in his chest even stronger. He blinked a few times to keep his mind on track. "Hey, sorry for not calling earlier. I had some things to take care of after the meeting," he said, hoping she'd believe him. _Really all I was doing was avoiding everyone_. "That's okay. So how'd it go then? What do you make of Allison?" He told her how the meeting went, and that he had answered all their questions. "Were they similar to mine?" she asked. "Kinda," he replied, fiddling with buttons on the dashboard to occupy himself. "They wanted to know about us, but mostly about Carl and Zane. I think they're gonna get me over that." "No way, you didn't do anything to either of them," Claire said, her voice calm. "If that happens then I'll want to know why. A warning should be the most severe outcome." He sighed. "People keep telling me that neither of us have done anything wrong, but it sure doesn't feel like it, with this whole investigation going on." Claire made a sound in agreeance. "But it's true Jon. We've not broken any laws, just entered uncharted waters, so they're freaking out. It'll all work out alright." _Why's she so positive all of a sudden?_

"Anyway," Claire continued. "We can forget all about that for now. Time to focus on the next two days." Her voice was bright, and he closed his eyes and imagined her smile. She'd be sitting on her couch, or maybe sitting up in bed, her hair tied messily. She'd have packed her bags for Vegas and have been dutifully waiting by the phone since the show taping had finished, waiting to hear from him. She'd look cute, cozy and cuddly. _Irresistible._ "I've got a cab booked for 4am, so I should probably turn the lights out." He remained silent for a while, battling the duelling voices in his head. "Jonny? You there?" Claire asked. _Come on. Say it. Remember why you're doing this_. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and spat the words out while he had the strength to do so. "I think you should stay in Connecticut."

There was only a brief pause, before Claire responded. "Oh, so you want to come here? I mean I was looking forward to getting out of this house but it's really the company I need, so that's fine. What time..." He cut her off. "No, Claire. I'm going to go home. And I think you should stay home too." He sucked his lips in and winced. Even saying those words stung. The silence down the phone was evidence of the realization sinking in for her. When she did speak, the spark in her voice had gone, replaced by a soft, childish squeak. "You don't... You don't want to see me?" _I would kill to see you_. "It's not that," he said with a sigh. "It's just been a crazy week for us both and I think we could both use some down time." After a moment, Claire spoke. "My last week has been nothing but down time!" There was a feistiness in her voice that, at any other time, would've made him proud. "Please, Jon. It sucks sitting here with nothing to do, knowing you're all off having fun and doing your jobs. I miss you, I need to see you. I need you." _Don't say that. I need to see you, but you need to not need me_. "This isn't just happening to you, Claire. It's happening to me too. And I get that your end of the deal is shittier than mine, but at least you've not had to deal with the stares, the jibes and the gossip." _And the guilt_ , he thought to himself. "I need some time to myself."

Claire said nothing for a while, and he could tell she was crying. His chest felt like it was going to cave in. It was a thousand times worse than seeing her cry last week, because this time, he was the cause. Something he swore he'd never do. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand to release the pressure building inside him. He didn't know what to say now. He wished he could hug her, say he was stupid and that he didn't mean it _. I'm not entirely sure I do mean it_. _But it's for her. For her. For her_. He repeated that to himself a few times, to muster the courage to speak. "I gotta go, Claire. Look after yourself." As he pulled the phone away from his ear to hang up, he heard her sob out loud. The sound hit him like a blow to the chest, forcing air out of his lungs. He threw his phone on to the passenger seat, watching it hit the door and fall to the floor. He stared at it, fighting the voice telling him to call her back and apologise; that he be on the next flight to Stamford. He let his head fall against the wheel, then head butted it a dozen or so times. An uncontrollable roar escaped his throat. He hated this situation; hated that he'd upset her; hated the way he was feeling. _I hate me. I'm the one who put us here_. He sat back in the seat and rubbed his eyes. He caught his reflection in the rear view mirror. _You're a worthless piece of shit, Mox_. He felt pressure building behind his eyes. _Remember. It's for her. You're doing the right thing._ _  
_

Claire pulled her knees to her chest, lowered her head on top of them and sobbed. Her shoulders were heaving in time with her haphazard breaths. All she could feel was the pain in her heart. _Why is he doing this? What has happened in the last 48 hours to change his mind, so adamantly?_ Her thoughts brought even more tears, which flowed freely from her eyes. _Look after yourself? Did he really say that?_ It had given a finality to the conversation that she hadn't expected, even right up until that point. Look after yourself, as if he wouldn't be checking in to see how she was. She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeves, in between two big inhales; an attempt to catch her breath. She stared blankly out across her studio, at nothing in particular. _If he's backing out now, then what the hell has this all been for?_ _  
_  
The following morning, Claire woke feeling completely shattered. She'd had enough of her wits about her to call and cancel the cab, but not to turn off her alarm. When it blared at 3.45am, it served as a painful reminder that she wouldn't be going anywhere. Once a fresh wave of tears had subsided, she had fallen asleep again, but she wasn't feeling any better for it. She caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, and her red, puffy eyes were an immediate giveaway. She didn't feel like eating, so she crawled back into bed and stared at the ceiling. She replayed every conversation, every text she and Jon had exchanged since Friday. Nothing he had said had given any indication of what he was thinking. He had been brief at times but with valid reasons. _Excuses?_ He'd been under pressure with Hunter, and then meeting with Allison, and she had to admit that she'd not thought about how much it would affect him, having to deal with people's judgmental looks and comments. He didn't seem the type to be rattled by that sort of stuff. _But maybe I didn't take into account how severe that would be._

 _Just go anyway_ , a small voice said in the back of her brain. She had visions of a grand Hollywood reunion on his doorstep; he would apologise and she would apologise, they'd kiss and collapse into his bed. But movies always stop there. They don't show the talk or the day after, the ongoing awkwardness of working through whatever the issue was. _And I don't even know what the issue is_. She shook the thought out of her head. _No. He doesn't want me there. As much as I want that, I care about him enough to respect his wishes. And that clearly isn't me_. She fell back into her pillow as the tears built again, knowing she'd stay there for the rest of the day.


	48. Dinner guest

Jon arrived in Ohio for the house shows and was thankful for the distraction. He hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to keep his mind distracted while he was at home. He'd worked out a lot; so hard and so often that his body ached in new places. He welcomed a pain that wasn't in his chest. He had expected it to go away, at least after a decent sleep, but it hadn't. It served as a constant reminder that he'd now ruined Claire's life, and that was ruining his. He drank quite a bit Wednesday night, on his own, and the resulting hangover had accounted for much of Thursday. He was glad to get out of his house, and head to his home state, where catching up with some old friends was an appealing distraction.

Claire hadn't made contact with him, and he felt that intensely. He wondered if that meant she was angry at him, upset, or just plain ambivalent. _Or maybe she's in agreeance. Maybe she has realised what I have._ He picked up his rental at the airport and drove the two hours to the house show location, turning up the death metal to drown out his thoughts.

Cody and Eden arrived at the hotel about an hour after him. Cody had text asking if he wanted to grab a coffee with them. He didn't want the drink, but he wanted the company. He met them in the lobby and they walked a block or so to a kitschy cafe. After discussing their flights, Eden asked him how his 'weekend' with Claire was. Jon tried to keep his face neutral. He'd practiced a line for this exact question. "She decided to stay at home," he said, his tone level. They both looked surprised. "Yeah, she thought she better stay close to HQ in case she got called in for something." He figured that was a believable statement. "That seems fair," Cody said, sipping his coffee. "God I hope she does hear something this week." _You and me both_ , Jon thought. "Her two week stand down ends on Tuesday, doesn't it?" Eden asked. "She's got to hear something before then, surely." Jon shrugged. "You'd think so," he said, using his drink as a distraction from her gaze. "Poor girl," she continued. "I bet she's lonely and confused there by herself." Jon felt both of them look at him. _Shit._ "She actually seemed pretty upbeat about it last time we spoke about it" he said. That wasn't entirely untrue. When they'd spoken Tuesday night, Claire was in a good mood and strangely positive about the work situation. _And then I ruined things_. Cody and Eden wouldn't know about that. They probably expected he'd been in touch with Claire every day since. _I wish. But I just couldn't take it._ They finished their drinks and walked back to the hotel. Claire wasn't mentioned again, but Eden did grab him by the arm gently before he returned to his room. "You sure you're alright with all this, Mox?" _What does that mean?_ he thought to himself, but he stayed silent. "It's a lot to handle, for anyone. Work stress, matters of the heart... You've never had to deal with that combination before. If you want to talk about anything; how the meetings went, how you're feeling, how Claire's feeling... You know where to come, okay?" He rolled his eyes. _Why do women do this? Want to talk and get emotional and shit? I'm trying to block it out, thank you very much_. "I'll survive," he said, the less words the better. He felt her squeeze her arm. "Good," she replied, looking him purposefully. "Because I wouldn't want you to regret anything." She held his eyes for a moment, before turning towards Cody. "By the way," she called out over her shoulder. "I've booked us in at a place across town for dinner. Our shout." Cody raised his eyebrows and smiled to confirm the offer. Jon sighed. He should be thankful to have such good friends who were looking out for him. But all he wanted was to be on his own. He took himself back to his room and watched old wrestling footage on his phone, trying to find a spark of inspiration which would get him up for his match tonight.

/

Following the show, Jon spent a long time taking photos and signing for fans outside the arena. He wasn't in the mood but forced himself to be, knowing it was a good way to keep his mind distracted. A few of the girls in line gave him a special look, one even slipped him her number. _Not interested, sweetheart_ , he thought to himself. Not for the first time in the day, he wondered what Claire was doing. _Probably the Netflix and Chill thing she goes on about._

He met Cody and Eden in the hotel lobby at the arranged time, and they took Jon's rental to the restaurant Eden had booked. It was a recently opened Turkish place, but by that time of night it was almost empty. They ordered drinks and their meals, and Cody gave him a look when he asked for a double shot of whiskey. "It's just one," Jon said in his defence. "So long as it is," Cody replied, a dubious tone in his voice.

Dinner was uneventful. The Rhodes did their best to keep conversation flowing, but not all of it appealed to Jon. They discussed Cody's storyline and giving up his gimmick, but the following conversations did nothing for him. He ordered a ginger beer for his second round, much to Cody's visible approval. With no one tempted by dessert, Eden asked for Cody's credit card. "I'll go settle the bill, our shout remember?" Jon tried to protest but they weren't having it. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, taking off behind Jon towards the front desk. The two men were silent for a moment, before Cody asked Jon how his shoulder was feeling. "It's still a bit tight on certain angles, but getting better. I better get it right before I get too involved with Brock. He won't give a shit," he said. They both laughed, and Cody began telling him about a UFC rumor he'd heard, before Eden's voice interrupted. "Well, look who I bumped into..." Jon turned, and instantly recognized the curved hips standing beside her. His eyes travelled to her face, and Claire's blue eyes pierced into his own. _Shit she's beautiful_. The corners of her mouth turned upwards slightly, and it looked like she was about to say something, but Cody beat her to it. "Claire! What are you doing here?" He sounded genuinely surprised, and when Jon turned back to him, he was looking at his wife with confusion on his face. Jon had been thinking this must've been some elaborate plan, but Cody's reaction was evidence that he knew nothing about it.

"Come on, Mr Rhodes, we have a cab waiting," Eden said, pulling on his hand. Cody's eyes passed from her, to Jon, to Claire and back to his wife. "But I want to catch up with Claire, we've not seen her in..." Eden interrupted. "Not as much as Mox does. Come on, we can see her tomorrow." _Tomorrow? She's staying?_ Jon thought. He couldn't deny he was happy to see her; he'd missed her face, her smile, her body. One part of him wanted to wrap her up in his arms and not let go, but another part wondered where things were at following their phone call. _I don't deserve her warmth or understanding. I don't deserve her_. Claire's face wasn't giving anything away. "Come on," Eden repeated, pulling Cody to his feet. "We'll see you two later."

Claire had turned to watch them leave, with a warm, soft smile, but Jon didn't take his eyes off her. When she turned back to face him, he felt his heart race. It was the first time they'd been in the same room in over a week. "So," Claire started. "Wanna go for a drive? I hear you've got a rental."


	49. Secret garden

**A/N: TMy advice - Buckle up! KS x**

Jon started the car and looked across at Claire. He'd not said anything to her since she showed up. _I don't even know where to start._ "Where do you want to go?" he shrugged. She looked at him blankly. "You're the Ohioan," she said, buckling her seatbelt. He nodded, and began reversing. _How the hell am I meant to know where to go when I don't know what she wants to talk about?_ He wasn't even from this part of the state, so didn't know any top secret locations. He just took a left and hoped for the best.

He could feel Claire's eyes on him, and it made him anxious. _I'd have preferred she just let rip in the restaurant and walk out. Then at least I'd know what I was dealing with._ He stole the occasional glance across at her when he could, but it didn't help him work out what was on her mind. He turned off the main road and headed towards the gardens. He didn't know why, but he knew he needed to get out of the car in a hurry. He was nervous as hell and needed some other variables to run interference.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Claire sat down on a park bench. She motioned Jon to join her. He wanted to sit right next to her; sling his arm around her shoulder, pull her into him and inhale her. But he didn't think she'd want that, and he knew he didn't deserve it. He sat what he deemed a respectful distance away from her, and stared out at the darkened garden around them. Claire remained silent. _Come on, just drop the bomb already. This game sucks._ He heard her sigh, and finally, she spoke up. "So, what you did was pretty shitty." Her voice wasn't angry; it was soft. Sad. He turned to look at her, and her face remained neutral. _Can't argue with that._ He nodded, unsure what else she was going to say. "I don't understand, Jon. What happened?" He remained silent, staring down at his feet. Claire wasn't deterred. "Because here's what I know. We're travelling along perfectly happy, you and me. Undefined, but mutually comfortable. Things moved quickly, sure, and then we hit this speed bump with my job, but I decided things going to be okay. Because we were getting through it together. We were a team in this. Half of the shit I said in the meeting was because you gave me the confidence to do so, even though you might not have known that." She paused, and he still didn't have anything to say. _This is why. This is exactly why. You're useless, Mox. A coward. "_ And then you just call me up saying you don't want to see me? After the hardest week of my life?" He didn't want to look at her, but he could hear her voice falter. He stared harder at the outline of his shoes in the darkness, noticing his throat drying up. "So at first I was shattered. I was confused and sad. So I cried. A lot." _Good one, asshole._ "But then I stopped, and I thought, 'What would a grown woman do here?' And the more I thought about it, the more I realised. I don't believe you." That made him turn to her. Her face was stoic. "I don't believe you," she repeated, looking him in the eye. "You say you needed some time and space or whatever the hell you said, but I don't believe you. Something is going on, and you need to talk to me about it."

 _Please don't do this. Please don't make me do this._ He turned his head back towards the ground. In all the conversations he'd had in his mind, he'd not gone over any of this. He didn't know what to say, what voice to listen to. He felt Claire reach out to him, and he thought she was either going to hit him, or take his hand. He didn't know which one to wish for. But her hand slipped into his hoodie pocket, and she pulled out the car keys. "And the bad news for you is that we're not going anywhere until you do." He scoffed gently. That was a cunning move. He swallowed. "I don't know what you want me to say," he said, not taking his eyes off the ground. "Let's start with the truth. Why didn't you want me to come to Vegas?" He could feel her eyes on him. _You know she deserves the truth. Answer her._ "You know I'm no good with this kinda stuff," he said, shaking his head gently and slouching back into the bench. "I don't care," she said adamantly. "Anything would be better than the nothing I've had over the past few days. The crazy reasoning I've concocted in my head." _She's right. Come on. For her, remember?_ He sighed heavily. _There's no getting out of this. The sooner you start, the sooner it's over. You can leave her alone and stop ruining her life_

"I'm no good for you, Claire," he spat out. "You deserve better." "Says who?" Claire replied in an instant. "Everything! Everyone," he answered. "Look at us, sitting here having this conversation. It was only a matter of weeks until I screwed everything up for you. You'd have been doing just fine without me." He looked back out towards the car to avoid having to see her face; to avoid her seeing his face. "This is what I don't get. What have you screwed up?" _Are you serious?_ he thought. _How could she not know?_ "If it wasn't for me, you'd be working. You'd be running a rotation on your own, and not sitting in some crappy garden in Canton in the middle of the night." Claire moved slightly closer to him. "What makes you think I can't do those things and be with you at the same time?" she asked. "Because! Look at how it's turned out. This is exactly what you didn't want. You wanted a career, to be respected. And now, because of me, everyone's talking about you." Claire let out a short chuckle. "Well I'm sorry to bust your self-importance bubble, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't just you responsible for that." He shook his head and turned to her. "You know what I mean," he said, pleading with her to understand. _I don't think I can go any further._ "My past, my reputation, it brought yours under the spotlight, and you've not done anything wrong. I don't want to be responsible for anything else happening to you." _There. I did it. I showed you I can be vulnerable. Are we done now?_

"What about being responsible for all the tears I've cried this week? Or how much you hurt me?" she asked, her voice staying remarkably level. _Don't say that,_ he thought. _I know it's true but don't make me think about it._ "Or are you just going to ignore that?" He shook his head. "Don't," he said. "Don't. Don't." He stood up and walked to the fence across the path. "I'm not going to let you run away from this Jon," she said, her tone finally demonstrating some frustration. "It's all I've ever known how to do," he roared into the darkness. His breathing had become heavy, and he leaned forward onto the fence post trying not to focus on the pain inside him. He didn't hear Claire approach him, but felt her hand on the back of his arm. "You're more than that, I know it," she whispered softly. Her touched calmed his breathing, but not the doubt in his mind. "What if I'm not?" he said towards the darkness, before turning to face her. "What if I'm no better than anyone else in my family; running away from things before they have to take responsibility?" Claire's face softened, and he felt her thumb move gently across his arm. "You are," she said, with a certainty he knew he didn't deserve. "You've just never had anyone to confirm it to."

/

Claire let her thumb run back and forward across Jon's arm. _So this is what it's all about then._ She knew there had to be something bigger, something behind his sudden change of heart. She was right to not believe him. And despite all the crazy scenarios she'd tossed around her mind in the past few days, she didn't see this one coming. They'd avoided discussing his upbringing so far; it was clear he never wanted to talk about it. She knew they'd address it one day, if they were to make something of their relationship. She just didn't think it would be like this. She took a deep breath and tried to channel some rationality. No matter her concerns or own personal upset of the past few days, it was clear something big was unravelling here, and she tried to put her needs to aside for the moment. _He needs to talk about this. He needs me now._ "You are not your father, Jon. You're not your mother. You're your own man, and these past couple of months you've shown me…" "Stop it," he said, he head hanging lower. "Stop trying to tell me I'm something I'm not. I know I'm a piece of shit. I should've let you go when you weren't certain about a relationship, instead of letting you get this deep…" He trailed off, and Claire tried to reassure him, but he cut her off. "Truth is, I'm addicted to you," he said, looking straight at her. Claire felt her heart melt. _Now's not the time for swooning. Help him._ "And it's f—king scary!" he continued, turning back towards the darkened gardens. "I've been addicted to something before, and that wasn't good for me. It was the only time I didn't have control. I've always had control over myself. My thoughts and actions. Especially my emotions. But I don't anymore and that scares the shit out of me. You, and what's happening to you, that is what controls me now. And then all of this bad shit was happening to you and I couldn't do anything to stop it! And isn't that what a 'boyfriend' is supposed to do? Protect his girl? And I couldn't, I wasn't. So I knew I had to try and get out. To stop ruining things for you."

Claire closed her eyes. _That's a lot to take in._ Part of her wanted to smile, hearing how much he cared about her. _But that's the selfish thing to do._ He was hanging his head, kicking his shoe against the bottom of the fence. It was dark, but from what she could see of his face in the shadows, his eyes were narrow, his nose screwed up. She heard him sniff, and watched his other hand rise quickly and drag across his cheek. _Is he crying?_ she asked herself. _Help him._ "None of what's happened to me is your fault Jon, no more than it is mine. It's a circumstantial thing, and it'll play out how it plays out. I certainly don't hold you responsible for it in the slightest," she said, moving closer to him, placing her hand on his. "You can't let your past, and stupid decisions other people made, dictate your future. You're not being fair on yourself." _Or me, but that's not the issue here, not any more_. She could hear his breathing intensify. "It's not that easy," he said, shaking his head. "You don't think I've spent my entire life trying to rebuild what they broke?" He turned to face her and she could read the pain on his face. "But all it's done is made me feel like I'm the one to blame, all the time. They walked out on me, I must be the problem." Claire felt as if her heart was cracking. "Jon, that's not true, not at all," she said, trying to keep her composure, but her heart was aching for him. "That's why I'm so f—ked up. Why I run away from things when they get hard," he yelled. He turned back towards the bushes, with a loud sniff, shaking his head. "I love you, okay?" he said, almost with anger. "I didn't want to, but I do. And look at what it's done. It's ruined your life. The best thing that happened to me is the worst thing to happen to you. I can't even get that right."

 _Oh my god._ Claire was silent for a moment, trying to decide which part of that she should act on. Her heart was thrilled to hear that word, but saddened by how he had wrapped in pain and guilt. "I'll decide what the worst thing to happen to me is," she responded. "And it's certainly not you being in love with me." His head turned to face hers, and she smiled softly at him, hoping he'd see how genuine her response was. She watched him swallow and wipe his face again. They were silent for a moment. _Say it,_ she thought. _Reassure him._ But she couldn't help but feel it wasn't the natural part of the conversation to reciprocate the feelings. She felt that he'd not give her another chance to explore these issues again, so she wanted to keep allowing him to get it all out. "The only thing I've ever loved is wrestling," he told her. "And look at how that's consumed my life. I'm scared Claire. I ain't ever felt like this before. I don't know what I'm doing." In the shadows, she saw him suck his lips in and close his eyes. She stepped forward and pulled him into her arms. His forehead slowly dropped on to her shoulder. Claire rubbed both her hands up and down his back, and she felt his shoulders shake a couple of times. It felt good to have him close to her again, but she couldn't focus on that. She wanted to ease his pain, but felt it wouldn't be a quick fix. _He needs me now, and he needs me to keep reinforcing that._

After a few moments, he stood upright. He rubbed his eyes, then looked down at her. Claire had never seen him this way; he looked sad, vulnerable. Like a child. "Come on, let's sit" she said, taking his hand and leading him back to the bench. She didn't let his hand go. She waited a few moments to see if he would keep talking, then gently encouraged him. "Why didn't you talk to me?" she asked softly. "I wanted to run away," he replied. "Things got out of hand so I did what had always happened to me." He sighed, and looked at her. "I told myself I'd never love anyone because people always leave." There was a pause, before he looked at her. "I'm scared you'll leave, Claire. And I'm scared I'll be the reason you leave. So I wanted to get in ahead of all that." Claire didn't know how to respond initially, so squeezed his hand tighter. _No, I wouldn't. Especially now I know how much that would hurt you._ "And in the process, I upset you and that was killing me." He whacked his head with his hand. "I'm such a f—king asshole." She repositioned herself on the bench so she was fully facing him. "No you're not. These are legitimate things you've been carrying for too long. I just wish you'd said something to me, so we could talk about it. Instead, for the past few days I've been wondering what I'd done to make you hate me all of a sudden." His eyes locked on to hers in an instant. "Are you kidding me? I just said you're the best thing to ever happen to me. My head and my heart have never been better places to be, until I realised I was the cause for all this shit. And I wanted to stop any more pain for you." _Stop it!_ Claire shouted internally. _Stop with all this nonsense._ "Jonny, listen to me," she began. "I'm so sorry these things happened to you, I'm sorry you've been hurt so much. But all of those experiences shaped you, in one way or another." She took a big breath. _Here we go_. "And they made you into who you are today; into the man I've fallen in love with." His gaze moved from over her shoulder to focusing on her. He frowned. "I love you Jonny," she repeated. "You're loyal, you're funny, you're smart, you're caring, and romantic, in your own way. I've never felt more safe in my life than being with you. You made me feel valued and worthy. And now I realise how special that is, if you've never had that yourself, from anyone. To be able to make me feel that way, while you had all of this pain inside you, that makes you amazing, in my eyes." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and Claire returned that. It was good to see a smile on his face, even just a slight one.

/

Jon stared at Claire for a few moments. _She….She loves me?_ "You're in love with me?" he managed to stumble out. She smiled gently and nodded. "Sure am," she said. "Which is why it felt like I'd been hit by a truck on Tuesday night. I didn't see that coming at all." _You're such a fool, Mox._ Jon's heart was beating double time. "I'm so sorry, Claire," he said opening his body up to her. "I told you I didn't know what I was doing. This love stuff is f—king crazy." She laughed, and the sound warmed him. "It's meant to feel good," she giggled. "Well, it did," he conceded, "until I thought you weren't getting a fair deal in the situation. Thanks to me." Claire leaned towards him. "Would you stop that?!" she yelled at him. "I cannot state it any clearer. You are not to blame for any of this, neither am I. You make me happy. You make me laugh. You make me feel special. And I hope that I can give that back to you." _You don't know what you give me._ "I don't deserve someone like you," he said, lowering his head. "My head and my heart say otherwise," she said sincerely. They locked eyes, and even in the moonlight he could see the conviction in hers. He paused for a moment, knowing that his next move was critical. "You sure about this?" he asked. "This is probably your last chance before I won't be able to let you go." "Shut up and kiss me, Jonathan," she demanded. "It's what normal people do when they say they love each other for the first time." She broke into a wide smile, and there was nothing he could do. It pulled him in like a magnet. _Yes ma'am_ , he thought, lowering his lips to hers. They were warm and soft, and he welcomed the familiar spark they generated through his body. _F—k I missed this,_ he thought. _It feels like home._


	50. Celebration and trepidation

Jon opened the door to his hotel room and held it open for Claire. When he left for dinner a few hours ago, he would never have guessed she would be with him upon his return. She pulled her luggage behind her; she'd left it in the cab she took to the restaurant, which Cody and Eden had then taken back to the hotel. "So this was all some big scheme between you and Eden?" he asked, now comfortable enough to be jovial again. "I may have enlisted her help," Claire replied, a cheeky grin on her face. "I knew she'd tell me where you were, and help get you out of the hotel. I was just hoping you weren't too much of a jackass to turn down the dinner invitation." She put the suitcase on the shelf and turned towards him. "It's good to know they're on our side." _Sure is,_ Jon thought to himself. _I owe them both a drink, or ten._ While Claire took a shower, he got into bed, happy to know she'd be back in his arms tonight.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning. He blinked a few times to focus on the clock. 8.25am. _No way._ He never slept this late on the road. He rubbed his eyes and felt movement behind him. Claire rolled against his back and put her arm around him. "Morning, sleepyhead," she said softly, kissing him on the back of the shoulder. He linked his fingers in hers. "Morning," he returned. "Man, I slept like a log. That's rare." He heard her laugh gently. "Any girl will tell you a good cry leaves you exhausted. You were asleep before I got out of the bathroom." _Dammit, you idiot._ He'd been hopeful, on the drive back to the hotel, that their reunion would lead to fantastic make up sex, but he'd foiled his own plan. Claire squeezed him against her and let out a contented sigh. They both dozed off again briefly, and the next time Jon's eyes focused on the clock, it was 9.15. "Shit," he said out loud, causing Claire to open her eyes. "What?" she asked, alarmed by his tone. "It's 9.15," he replied. "We need to be out of here by 10. I was meant to work out this morning." Claire began placing soft kisses along his back. "Well," she began, letting her hand run down his stomach, "there's still time for that." Her hand trailed down further and cupped his balls. Jon smiled. Her touch stirred him, and he flipped himself over and pulled Claire to him, face to face. A mischievous grin greeted him. "I'll get your heart rate up," she said, almost cut off by his kiss. Jon moaned into her as she continued to tease him through his boxers. As their tongues moved against each other, he thought to himself; _this is how it could be, forever._

They met Cody and Eden in the hotel lobby just after 10am. Cody strode forward to give Claire a hug, and Jon took a moment to look at Eden. She winked at him with a knowing smile. _Thank you_ , he thought, hoping it was portrayed through his face. They checked out of the hotel and piled into the rental car for their trip to Youngstown. The next show was the following day, and after the short drive, they'd have the rest of the day to themselves. They filled the drive talking about Claire's job; who the possible heroes and villains were. Despite Claire's insistence last night, Jon still couldn't help but feel like the latter. _I know what she thinks, but it doesn't change my mind._ His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of Claire laughing at one of Cody's lame jokes. He looked across at her; eyes closed, wide smile, full bellied laughter. _Guess I need to let it go. She has_.

/

Claire hung back while Jon checked into his room in Youngstown. It wasn't booked for two people, and she didn't want to arouse suspicion. She also kept an eye out for anyone else she recognised. From what she'd heard, it wasn't so much the roster who was talking; it was the staff. The last thing she needed was someone from the comms team, or even merch or make up, seeing her and throwing around more rumours. _But I'm not doing anything wrong_ , she interrupted herself. _I'm just visiting my boyfriend_. She hadn't been officially cautioned to, but she knew better than to think she was welcome backstage at the moment. As such, she wanted to keep a low profile while she was here. She hadn't even told Lucy, who she assumed would be around somewhere. _In fact, I'm more proud of the fact she doesn't know I'm here than I was about surprising Jon._ Lucy always had a knack for finding things out. She felt a twinge of regret thinking of Lucy. She'd not been in touch with her for a few days, and wondered if Lucy felt she was being unjustly cold. _But at the same time, she's not contacted me,_ she thought. And after the last couple of days, she certainly didn't want to open the door for any potential drama.

/

That evening, it was Jon's turn to pay for dinner. Eden and Cody protested, but he was adamant. "You were in on the elaborate plan to get her here," he said, motioning at Claire, "so I owe you guys big time. In fact, we both owe you for being on our side." The foursome dined in an upmarket bistro a few blocks from the hotel. Claire took a look around at the other patrons; mainly checking for WWE staff, but it was apparent none of them would be able to afford this place. _Neither can I, really. But I'm going to have to start saving for my contribution for nights like this._ She looked around the table; the three of them all earned on-camera salaries, the boys enjoying additional merchandise and retail income. They earned enough to be able to shout dinner in places like this and not worry about what they'd have to sacrifice in the coming weeks to do so. She looked at Jon, deep in animated conversation with Cody, and allowed her mind to wander. She imagined living in his place in Vegas: the space she'd have; the full sized kitchen; modern ensuite bathroom; gigantic television; sprawling sofa; room for a hot tub on a balcony overlooking the dessert. She even pictured Jon giving her his credit card and telling her to buy whatever she liked for interior decorating. She sighed softly. She was getting ahead of herself, imagining sharing Jon's house and his hard-earned money. _It's not what I'm in it for, at all, but gosh that would be nice._ Jon's voice shook her from her daydream. "You going to join the toast, darling?" She looked down to see she had a full glass of champagne in front of her, matching him, Cody and Eden. "Sure," she said, raising her glass. Jon smiled. "To great friends," he said, before adding quickly, "and sneaky, scheming women."

During their meal, Claire's phone rang. She felt bad for checking to see who it was, fully expecting it to be her parents; a quick decline with the intention to phone them back. She felt a rush through her stomach when she saw the name on the screen. It was Allison Pionte. Everyone was looking at her. "I should probably take this," she said, knowing her opening line would give it away to the group. "Hi Allison, how are you?" she asked politely. "Hello, Miss Harris," Allsion replied. "Please, Allison," Claire started, "call me Claire." There was an awkward silence from Allison, and Claire noticed Jon staring intently at her. "I am calling to advise you that your two week stand down finishes this Tuesday. I'm sure you're well aware of that." Allison was stating the obvious. She continued. "As such, your presence is requested on Tuesday morning in Cleveland, prior to the taping of the show. The outcome of your situation will be discussed with all parties then." _Oh. Jesus._ "Okay, great. Thank you Allison," Claire managed to spit out, trying to keep her voice calm. Her head spun slightly. She desperately wanted to hear 'the outcome of her situation', but she didn't like the sound of it happening on site, with everyone present. _What if it's bad? And I have to cope in front of all those people? And Jon has to cope without hitting all those people?_ She looked at him again; he was taking a swig of his beer, but he'd not taken his eyes off her. "I will see you in Cleveland," she said, before saying goodbye.

"So you'll know on Tuesday?" Eden asked before Claire had even put her phone down. Claire nodded, looking at Jon. "It appears so," she answered. "Everyone is going to be there, by the sounds of it." Jon scoffed and took a long sip of his drink. "This is great," Cody said, looking between the two of them. "Everything will be all sorted, everyone will know the truth, and you can work the show Tuesday." There was a short silence, everyone contemplating his optimistic scenario. _Fingers crossed,_ Claire thought to herself.


	51. Tagged

The following night, Claire bought a ticket for the house show and watched from the heights of the arena. She had told Jon that she shouldn't be backstage, and despite him trying to tell her everything would be okay, she decided against it. Plus, it had been a long, long time since she was in the crowd for a WWE event. It would be good to see an entire show, even if she had to squint to make out who was in the ring, and it would be good to experience fan reactions in the flesh. She missed that about being in the depths of the social media channels. Knowing what people were saying; who was hot and who was most definitely not, what spots and matches were being shared and reactions to storylines. As she sipped at her oversized cola, she found herself surprisingly excited. _I'll get to see Dean Ambrose in the flesh!_ She was looking forward to it.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up when she heard the start of a chainsaw ring through the building. That's all she heard, though, as the crowd jumped to their feet; cheering, clapping and waving signs. She watched as Jon emerged, beating his chest and screaming aimlessly towards the crowds. He'd once told her that while pay per views and TV shows had the added benefit of being live and wide-reaching, house shows still always felt intense for him. These were the people who might not be able to make it to the big events; that lived too far away or had to feed and clothe their children, so couldn't afford it. It didn't mean they were any less of a fan. He was allowed to go a little 'off script' at house shows and he had told her he loved that. She noticed the energy in his bounding steps to the ring, high fiving fans at the barricades. He looked tiny, but even from that distance she could notice all his defining features. He and Sheamus battled all around the arena, with the crowd reacting in exactly the right moments. They booed Sheamus and cheered Ambrose, and when Ambrose got the three count, the roof nearly lifted off the place. _What a super power…._ She smiled as Jon climbed up each ringpost, waving out to the crowd. He knew roughly what section she was sitting in, and blew air kisses into the crowd on her side. She smiled and waved back. She felt silly for doing so; he'd never be able to see her. But, given that everyone around her was doing the same, she felt more out of place not reacting.

After the show, she waited in the arranged spot to meet Jon. There were fans everywhere. She overheard their conversations; which superstars they wanted to meet and get photos with; girls trading stories about how many times they'd met their favourite, with an air of superiority. She laughed to herself as many of the fans talked about the roster as if they knew them, many referring to them by their real name. Claire felt a buzz in her pocket.  
 _Stuck doing some signing around at Door 4. You okay for another 20 minutes or so?  
_ \- _Sure. This is actually some quality people watching material. Take your time.  
Awesome. See you soon. I love you. _  
Claire felt the smile spread across her face. She hadn't tired of hearing those words from him. She got the feeling he wasn't going to be the type to drop it into every conversation they had – he was an actions speak louder than words kind of guy. But still, hearing him say it, knowing how what he'd been through to accept his feelings and her reciprocation, sent waves of content through her brain.

Around 30 minutes later, high pitched screams filled the air. Claire didn't need to look to know what had happened. While some of the waiting fans had given up and headed home, there was still a group of thirty or so people who were now scrambling to get in front of each other and close to Jon, Eden and Cody. Claire could hardly hear herself think. She cursed her lack of height as she tried to peer over the top of the crowd. She was getting pushed and shoved in the bustle of the crowd, but managed to catch Eden's eye. "You okay?" she saw her mouth, before posing for a selfie. Claire laughed, and nodded when she was looking her way again. The two girls shrugged at each other. Claire could see a hooded figure being pulled into the fence line for photographs. _Poor Jonny,_ she thought. He hated when people touched him. He didn't mind if he was interacting with one person, but he detested being touched and pulled, prodded and poked when he didn't know who he was dealing with. He did enjoy talking to fans, but he just wanted them to respect him and his personal space. _Ha_ , she thought, as she was tightly pressed up against people in all directions. _Well, I wanted to get up close and personal with the fans…._ After a few moments, she locked eyes with Jon, laughing. It was apparent most of the fans weren't leaving once they'd got their selfie or autograph, and Claire didn't know how she was going to get to the other side of the fence line. She moved her head a few times, trying to convey to him that she'd move towards the edge of the crowd. After a few minutes, she'd found her way out the back of the pack, instantly noticing the chill of the air. She hung around at the edge of the group, and Jon made his way down the line to her. He turned to a security guard. "She's with me, buddy, can you let her through?" The guard looked at Claire dubiously, then back at Jon. _I can just imagine what's going through his mind._ "Come on buddy, that's my woman," Jon said, just as Eden appeared behind him. "Are you okay, honey? Ready to go?" she asked. Her recognition and familiarity with Claire must have appeased the guard, as he moved the fence slightly to allow Claire to squeeze through. She thanked him and threw a smile in Eden's direction.

"Is that her?" Claire heard in the group behind her. She didn't make much of it, until she heard another voice. "Is that the girl? The one from Tumblr?" Suddenly there was a commotion behind her. Jon and Eden were two steps ahead of her, walking towards the parked rental cars. Cody was beside her, and she took a look at him. He didn't seem to notice anything. Cautiously, she turned to look over her shoulder, still walking. "I am, like, 100% sure that's her," she heard a girl say. Many were still calling out the names of her companions, but Claire was now hyperaware a small segment seemed to be talking about her. _Tumblr? What the hell?_ _I don't even have a Tumblr account…_ She turned back and continued towards the car.

/

Later, Claire, Jon, Cody and Eden were having a wine in the hotel restaurant. It was late on a Sunday night and there were not many people hanging around. The topic of conversation was Wrestlemania costumes and attire. "I'm sure you'll roll out your very best black singlet, Mox," Cody quipped, and Jon rolled his eyes. Claire managed a chuckle, but her mind kept straying to the comments from the small group of girls back at the venue. She took her phone out and downloaded the Tumblr app. _Where the hell do I even start?_ she thought, not knowing what would've sparked the recognition in those fans. She typed in her name, but nothing she saw referred to her, or even to wrestling. She was about to try another search, when she heard a familiar voice. "Claire? What are you doing here?" She quickly buried her phone into her pocket so Lucy wouldn't see what she was doing. "Luce, hey!" she replied, far too enthusiastically. _I even sound guilty…_ "I'm having a meeting on Tuesday in Cleveland so I thought I would come and spend a couple of days with Jon." Lucy's eyes were scrolling around the faces of her companions, and Claire hoped they were helping sell the story. Lucy nodded, but seemed to be throwing Jon an icy stare. "Oh yeah. When did you get in?" Claire swallowed. "This morning," she lied. _You're a horrible person, Claire…_ Lucy nodded again. "Do you want to join us?" she asked, hoping that the invitation would distract from the lie. Lucy looked around the table again, with a sour look on her face. "No, I wouldn't want to interrupt," she replied, a sour tone to her voice. "But maybe you and I can catch up in the morning?" Claire nodded, noting her heart beating faster. "That'd be great. Send me a text tomorrow." She smiled, but Lucy didn't return it, instead, taking another long look at Jon before leaving the restaurant. Claire watched her until she rounded the corner, and Jon let out a sigh of relief. "Thank f—k for that. I'm not sure I could've sat here with her without scratching my eyes out with a fork." Claire turned to look at him, and he took a long sip of his drink. She then turned to Eden, who was looking at her sympathetically. "You don't have to meet with her in the morning if you don't want to," she said. "I know," Claire returned. "But it will be good to talk to her. We've not said much this last week or so, and it would be good to know what's going on in the team." Eden placed her hand on top of Claire's. "Yes, she might give you the gossip, but don't think she won't be doing the same back to them." Claire let her eyes drift to the table in front of her. _I guess that answers my question._ She'd asked Eden a few times during her stand down if she'd been talking to Lucy, and Eden had always somehow answered the question without answering the question. "Make sure you know whose side she is on," Eden said, tapping her twice gently on the hand to reinforce her point.

/

Once they were in bed, Jon was begging to Claire to put her phone down. "In two days, you'll have your job back and I'll lose you to social media again. Please let me have this time with you," he asked, and Claire could see the hope in his eyes. "Just a minute," she said, turning back to her screen, scrolling through Tumblr. _This is unbelievable,_ she thought. _How long has this been on here?_ She quickly became lost in her own thoughts again, until Jon rolled up against her. "What the hell are you looking at anyway?" Claire continued scrolling. "Wait, is that… Is that us?" Jon asked. Claire nodded. In the last ten minutes, she'd navigated her way through Tumblr's tags to find the Dean Ambrose content, and it only took a couple of scrolls before she came across a picture of her and Jon eating lunch in Stanford a few weeks ago. Another scroll revealed a blurry picture of them standing in Las Vegas airport. Another of them getting into a car in the parking lot of a venue. _This is what those girls were talking about. They know who I am._ They might not have known her name, or her job, but her presence had certainly fuelled a few pages of internet discussion. "We've even got our own hashtag," she said out loud, knowing that would go over his head. "Deanette, like Dean and brunette put together. That's what they call me, your brunette." Jon grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Who's they?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Fangirls, I imagine," Claire replied, the moment not lost on her. _This would be his first time on Tumblr._ He shook his head, and scrolled a couple of times. "Where the f—k did they get these pictures from?"he asked, looking at her. "Oh come on," Claire sighed. "You're not stupid. You know they take photos of you all the time." His eyes narrowed, reading through some of the comments. "Yeah, but in these situations? We never saw anyone taking photos." Claire chuckled once. "I think that's the ultimate level of fandom; learning how to take the best undercover stalker photos."

Jon sighed. "F—k," he said, after a few moments. "I didn't want this for you," he said. "Some of the things they're saying are bullshit." Claire wasn't concerned about that. Yes, they'd said she was ugly, fat, a whore. But she didn't care about that. _They don't know me. And I know enough about them to know that fangirl rationale is non-existent. If they're not dating him, then whoever is is trash._ She was more worried about if anyone in the comms team had seen this. If Allison Pionte had seen this. She tried to shake that from her mind; _we've not done anything wrong, and we're not doing anything wrong in these pictures._ Still, she couldn't help but think that if those analysing the impact of her relationship with Jon knew she had her own hashtag on social media, it wouldn't help her cause.


	52. Face off

The following morning, Claire met Lucy for a coffee in the café across the road from the hotel. She didn't seem as dark or suspicious as she had the previous night. _Wonder what that was all about?_ Claire thought to herself. After saying hello, with a hug, even, Claire didn't get the chance to speak. Lucy talked non-stop about how busy she had been over the past two weeks. "Zane asked me to help with these analytical report things. You know, like stats and engagement figures and stuff. It was really hard to get my head around." Claire smiled to herself. She had never told Lucy the extent to which she'd been assisting Zane on the reports, and she was glad to know that Lucy didn't have the aptitude for the paperwork. It gave her an advantage, and if she was going to be fighting for her job tomorrow, that was good ammunition. "He's been in a weird mood," Lucy continued, referring to Zane. "He's been running around franticly doing his own work, then covering storylines and things. He's been having a few meetings with the higher powers about stuff. Probably the staffing changes. He even had to do a house show last week." _Yes, I heard about that,_ Claire thought. She wanted to ask about Carl, but didn't know how to bring it up. It was mainly her being nosy; wanting to know if his attitude had changed, if he'd said anything about the 'process' with Allison Pionte, and if he'd said anything about her. Lucy would usually spill the beans on everything, so it was notable that she'd not mentioned him.

"I'm still not thrilled about it," she heard Lucy say, and she focused back on the conversation. "About what?" Claire asked, sipping at her coffee. "You and Jon. He was such an asshole to me last week." A sly smile crossed Claire's face. "He was an asshole to everyone last week," she replied. She wouldn't tell Lucy about what they'd been through the past week or so, but it was still true that Jon hadn't been overly pleasant towards anyone. "What have I done to him anyway, to get him so upset? I was just honest with him from the start." Claire knew she should keep her mouth shut, but had to answer that somehow. "He was just annoyed that you didn't believe him, or me, that he was really making an effort. You didn't drop it. And I don't know, maybe he felt you crossed a line." _I bet you did cross a line, quite often, but neither of you wanted to tell me about it._ "I guess I'm going to lose my roomie, then," Lucy sulked. Claire frowned. She'd not even thought about that. She was so focused on getting her job back that she certainly wasn't thinking about hotel room arrangements. "You're making the assumption I'm going to get my job back," Claire said, the unease in her voice palpable. Lucy looked at her seriously. "What? You mean you don't think you will?" She looked genuinely concerned. "It's not that," Claire said. She hesitated; she'd not even shared this with Jon. "It's more that they might choose not to fire me, but reallocate me. You heard Zane say there are positions available at HQ. They know I live there. They might feel that it all makes sense that way." She shook her heard. This was all part of the overanalysing she'd been able to do while at home by herself with nothing to distract her thoughts. "No way," Lucy said, shaking her head. "I think Zane's realised that he needs you on the road, if his behaviour this week has been anything to go by." _Has he? Or maybe he's realised he just needs another person, not necessarily me._

As the girls crossed the road back to the hotel, Claire couldn't help herself. "So what's Carl been up to these last couple of weeks then?" Lucy shot her a look. "I told you, I couldn't care less about that asshole anymore. Not after being such a jackass to you." Claire scoffed. "Yes. He's the one you should be calling a jackass. Not Jon." Lucy rolled her eyes, but Claire continued. "What type of work has he been doing?" Lucy waved her hand casually. "Same shit, really. He's done TV and the opposite house shows to Ambrose. They knew better than to put them together." _Damn right. Jon would've knocked him out._ "He's been acting like a bit of a hero, actually. Saying all this weird stuff about how things are going to change, in our team and on the roster. That we'll have more respect from the roster than ever before, and it'll be because of him." Claire had to contain her reaction. She knew that Carl was referring to the charges he wanted to press against Jon. _As if that is going to earn him respect. He'll just look like a crying idiot._ Before they entered the hotel, Lucy pulled on Claire's wrist. "Hey," she began, "do you know why Eden hasn't been talking to me much lately? I don't know what I've done." Claire hoped the flush she felt in her cheeks wasn't showing. "I've not been around, Luce, remember? I don't know what's been going on. We've only briefly caught up yesterday and she didn't mention anything." _Liar._ Although it was true that they'd not discussed Lucy before last night. "Oh, right," Lucy sighed. "It's just that we had so much fun when we were all together. I don't know why that had to stop just because you weren't around." Lucy's eyes widened. "Sorry Claire, I didn't mean it like that, you know what I meant…" She looked panicked, but Claire laughed it off. "I know what you mean. I don't know. Maybe she's not been well, or maybe she and Cody just wanted to chill out. I know at least one night they spent with Jon, and knowing you're not his biggest fan, they probably figured you wouldn't want to go." She saw Lucy take that in, and a realisation come across her face. "I guess the roster sticks with the roster, huh? Except for you. They've taken you in." Claire gave her a quick hug. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not in with all of them. I'm sure everything will work out fine." That last line hung on her tongue for a moment. _I wish I was sure,_ she thought, no longer referring to Lucy's crazy desire to be accepted by the roster.

Shortly after, Eden and Cody again rode with Jon and Claire through to Cincinnati for RAW. Jon was overly excited to be heading to his home town. He spoke non-stop on the car ride; exaggerating stories of his misspent youth. He had the girls captivated. Cody, however, was rolling his eyes. "I've heard these all before, and I swear it changes every time," he said mockingly. Claire didn't care. She was enjoying seeing Jon talk about his past with such freedom. It was nice to know that, even if some of it was borderline illegal, he did have some fun growing up. "After the show," he said, reaching across and putting his hand on Claire's knee, "I'll take you around and show you all these places." She smiled widely at him. Even before all the drama, she couldn't have imagined him being so open about his childhood. The last week had been tough on them both, but perhaps it was for the better. "Sounds great," she replied. "I need to know where this near-arrest at the school yard happened." They laughed, and Jon spiralled into another tale of an April Fools prank gone wrong.

/

Jon was packing his backpack before heading out to film a couple of quick things for the show tonight. They were making the most of being in his home town; it would get him an extra big pop from the local crowd. He was due to be out filming for around two hours, during which time Claire was going to be hanging out with Eden in their room. He'd managed to sneak her into his hotel room again, hoping that this time tomorrow, they'd be finding out that the sneaking was no longer necessary. _Imagine that; none of it. Not hiding catching cabs together, sharing rooms, not having to hide smiles and stares backstage._ There would be nothing to hide, from anyone. _Except maybe those fans._ He couldn't get over how many photos of Claire were online. If there was something he did want to keep their relationship secret from, it was the wrath of the internet. He knew how nasty people could be, to females in particular. Eden, who was a beautiful woman, endured it daily. He knew all the Divas were subject to some sort of criticism, mainly from other women. And the guys with partners who weren't involved in the show said their girls got stalked and harassed online by people who hunted them down. He shook his head. _Don't these people have anything better to do?_ _And Claire wonders why I hate social media._ He swore to be on the lookout now. He didn't want to give them any more fuel for their fire.

Jon returned to his room a few hours later to find Claire kicked back on the bed watching hockey. "Hey you, how was the home town tour?" she asked, sitting up. "It was fun," he answered. "Other than Lucy's presence. She hardly said anything to me. I don't know why she even needed to be there. But we got some great clips. It'll be good to see how they go down." He kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket and dove on to the bed, making Claire bounce gently. He ran his hand gently against her hair. "Did you and Eden solve the troubles of the world?" he asked, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Of course. We've narrowed down her Mania outfits to seven." They both laughed. He was glad she wasn't as obsessive about clothes as some of the other girls. _She looks great in whatever she wears. Maybe except that Penguins hoodie_. "I've been thinking," Claire began. _Uh oh. Thinking is bad,_ Jon thought to himself. "I'm going to stay here tonight." Jon looked at her, confused. Claire elaborated. "I still think it's best I keep a low profile. Even though Lucy has probably let everyone know I'm here. I think I should just keep out of it, until I'm expected. Which isn't until tomorrow." Jon chewed on his lip. She was right. As much as he wished she would be backstage, and he could hold her hand and kiss her in front of everyone to prove he did not give a damn about what they thought, she wanted nothing to jeopardise tomorrow's outcome. "Okay, fair enough," he sighed, settling in beside her to watch the game. "Make sure you watch carefully, I'll send a little message to you," he said, squeezing her hand.

/

Jon had received the 15 minute call from the crew, and he was in the final stages of prepping himself for his match. He taped his wrists and pulled out a black marker pen from his bag. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Lucy entered without waiting for him to answer. "We don't need much, given what we did earlier," she said. "Maybe just a crazed 'going to battle to the death' look." Jon nodded. He couldn't wait to have Claire back on the staff. If they let her have her job back, and were accepting of their relationship, surely they would let her cover his storylines? _Why would they allocate anyone else to me? I'd cooperate much better with her._ He chuckled silently to himself, thinking that might be the exact reason why they wouldn't allocate Claire to his storylines. _They might think we'd cooperate too much…_ He couldn't imagine Claire agreeing to any on-site antics anyway. She wanted to be professional from the start, and that would be even more significant to her once she got back on the team. He didn't want to say _if_ she got back on the team. He didn't even want to contemplate the alternative. Lucy's voice cut into his train of thought. "Come on then," she said, looking at her watch. "You're due in gorilla in like five minutes." Jon sighed. "Alright then. Keep your panties on." He moved to the corner of his locker room and channelled the lunatic. Lucy took some pictures, then reviewed them. "Looks good," she said, turning in the opposite direction. Jon sat back next to his bag, reaching for the marker again. He assumed she would see herself out. "Hey, Jon?" he heard her ask. His name sounded so unusual coming from her. He looked up with a grunt. "I'll make you a deal. I'll stop being such a bitch if you stop being such an asshole. Deal?" They stared at each other for a moment, before she turned and left without an answer. Jon smirked to himself. He was never going to be Lucy's biggest fan, but he accepted the concept of a truce, for Claire's sake. _I guess neither of us is big enough for a real apology._ Perhaps he and Lucy were more alike than he cared to acknowledge. He bit the lid off the marker, and carefully drew two letters on each of his wrists: **CH**.

/

Claire was sitting at the hotel room table with papers all around her when Jon arrived back from the show. The smile she gave him made him forget all about the aches and bruises he'd acquired tonight. "Pretty smooth move, Mr Good," she said, as she moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pushed herself onto her toes to kiss him softly. "Thought I'd send you a little message to let you know I was thinking of you," he said, returning her kiss. _And everyone else in the locker room._ "You've probably just added another picture to that hashtag though," she laughed, and he cursed. _Shit. I didn't even think about that. Now they'll probably try to find out her name._ "Don't worry about it," Claire said, sensing his anger. "I was only kidding." He shook his head. "I'm not though," he replied. "I don't want them to know too much about you. I don't want you to have to deal with that shit." She placed her hands on his face and forced him to look at her. "If anyone knows about how mental those people are, it's me. Remember, it's my job to have to read through their shit all the time. 90% of it is hate; for the talent, for the talent's partner, or for each other. It's all keyboard bravado. They don't know me, so it doesn't bother me what they think. I only care about what you think." He felt his grimace fade into a smile. "Well, I happen to think you're pretty darn great," he said, picking her up off the ground and kissing her. "Now come on, let me show you the Nasty Nati!"

As they headed through the hotel parking lot, they heard a laugh. "Well, if it isn't Romeo and Juliet," the voice said. Jon's mouth curled into a snarl as he recognised the voice. He heard Claire sigh beside him as her eyes focused on Carl. "Just keep walking," she whispered. "He's not worth wasting our time on." Jon agreed, but god what he wouldn't give to have five minutes alone with him. "Oh, is that how it's going to be, Claire? All cold and icy?" Carl asked, a sarcastic tone to his voice. Jon felt his hand twitch in frustration. Claire stopped and turned to face him. _What happened to keep walking?_ "What - do you think I'm going to buy you a drink?" she asked, a fire to her voice which was new to Jon. He stepped in beside her to let Carl know he needed to watch his step. "I've never known someone with such a warped sense of entitlement that they want to ruin someone else's career. How on earth do you think I'm going to treat you now?" Jon's eyes passed from Claire to Carl, and back again. He couldn't look at him for long without wanting to hit him. "I was just doing you a favour," Carl answered. "Let's face it. This," he said, using a finger to point between her and Jon, "this is a laughing stock. Nobody is taking it seriously." Jon's lips pressed into a firm line and he felt his breathing intensify. _Control what you can control,_ he thought, repeating Hunter's words to himself. _Claire will be able to handle this much better than you._

He heard her scoff. "You're just jealous," she said to Carl. "Jealous of the fact that I came in and actually did the job you're meant to do. And that Zane saw that, acknowledged and appreciated it. Lord forbid someone was actually more capable than you. I was never gunning for you, Carl, despite whatever whacked scenario you have in your head. I was just doing my job. Which was the same as yours, except you were too cushy; sitting back thinking the world owed you something for nothing." _Give it to him, girl,_ Jon thought, a sly smile crossing his face. He wondered if she'd rehearsed what she'd wanted to say to Carl on those lonely days in Stamford. She was sure getting her chance now. Carl took a moment to reply. "There's nothing for me to be jealous about," he said arrogantly. "Last time I checked, I was in full employment and running a rotation on my own, and you were… Well. You were suspended and getting yourself tested for STIs." He rolled his head in Jon's direction, and Jon took a step towards him, before Claire's arm held him back. His shoulders were heaving, and he didn't take his eyes off Carl when she stepped in front of him. "I've got this, okay?" she said, her voice level, but with a hint of aggression he'd never heard. He stepped back, but maintained eye contact with Carl. He saw Claire move closer to Carl. "You know nothing about him, so you'd be best to keep your mouth shut," she said with anger. He could see her shoulders moving in time with her deep breaths and wondered what Angry Claire was capable of. "I think you should walk away," she added. Carl laughed. "Actually, I think you should walk away. Technically you're still suspended and therefore not part of the staff, meaning you're probably trespassing right now. I should call security." _Where does this asshole get off? If he doesn't leave right now I will make him._ "I don't know why you're doing this," Claire spat out, this time sounding more hurt than angry. "Nothing I ever did was as calculated as what you did to me. Really, you should be thanking me. How easily the tables could've been turned, if I'd been as low as you. All I had to do was reveal to Zane the real reason why your rotation hardly posted on the weekends." There was a momentary pause, before she continued. "Who really brought the team into disrepute, huh? You think Zane would approve of bathroom stall quick f—ks on company time?" Hearing Claire cuss like that made Jon look at her. He had never seen her like this. All of her pent up emotions from the past fortnight seemed to be unleashing themselves. "But I never would've. Because a) it's none of my business and b) I'm loyal. I'm a team player. But you wouldn't understand what that means, Carl. Your head is so far up your ass that you can only see one person. You might think you're winning this, but I can guarantee you, it's not over. Not by a long shot."

Carl sniggered. "Is that another threat against me?" he asked, looking Jon straight in the eye. "Do I need to call the cops on you too, Claire?" Jon felt his insides burn with fury. _Come on Claire, let me flatten the bastard._ "I think you should stop talking, because all you're doing is giving me more evidence for my case against you, and your bottom-feeding junkie boyfriend…." His sentence was abruptly stopped by the impact of Claire's hand slapping his face. The noise echoed around the parking lot. Jon didn't even try to hide his smile. He stepped forward and placed his arm around her, and before they turned to walk away, he looked over his shoulder at Carl, who had stumbled back, holding his face. _Stay away from us,_ he tried to convey on his face. "Good shot honey," he said over his shoulder, as they headed towards the rental car. _I've never been more proud of someone in my life._


	53. Nasty Nati

Claire slumped into the passenger seat of the car and let out a big sigh. "Holy shit, that was great!" Jon said as he got into the driver's seat. "I've never seen you like that! I didn't know you had it in you. I can't lie; I'm a little turned on…." Claire chuckled. "Calm down. He had it coming," she said as she put her seatbelt on. "He sure did," Jon said, starting the car. "And I'm glad you gave it to him." _So am I. But will I be tomorrow? I've probably ruined everything._ She rubbed her face with her hands. "Ready to see the real Cincinnati?" he asked her, with a cheeky glint in his eye. "Sure," she laughed, "so long as we don't get in anywhere near the trouble you did all those years ago." He revved the engine to accentuate her point, then slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Claire took a look in the side mirror, but there was no sign of Carl. _Probably already on the phone to Allison._

Jon's lively commentary of the local attractions had Claire in stitches. He seemed to have a story for every street corner. He'd vomited outside that bar after his first encounter with bourbon aged 15; he had wrestled in that community hall parking lot for $20 and a hot meal; he went to see The Fifth Element on his very first date with a girl at that cinema. "You took a girl to see Fifth Element for a first date?" Claire laughed, shaking her head jokingly. "What's wrong with that?" Jon asked genuinely. "It was a sci fi/action combo and had Bruce Willis and explosions!" "Exactly!" Claire said. "Did you see her again?" Jon's silence gave away the answer and Claire cracked up. _Thank god he didn't try that with me._ They continued driving for a half hour or so before he slowed down outside Amelia High School. "This is where it all began," he said, telling her about how he joined the high school wrestling team. "Made good friends here, but hardly know any of them now. Most of them told me, when I'd been in the indies for a long time, to just let it go. Funny how those ones reappeared after The Shield took off." He scoffed to himself, and continued driving. He took her past the gym he'd lied his way into to start training, and past the park he would run around for hours to build his fitness. He took a few turns and the street lights became few and far between; Claire could feel the change of atmosphere in their surroundings. "Haven't been back here for a while," he said as he took a turn down a side street. "Looks like they've not done anything to joint since I left." She looked across at him, taking in the buildings around him. He pulled up alongside a series of three attached apartment blocks. One of the buildings had an outside light flickering, allowing a glimpse of the cracked front wall and overgrown grass out front. "This is it. This is where I put my head down each night, or was meant to." Claire's heart twitched. It hurt her to hear him talk about his youth this way. She had such wonderful memories of the house she grew up in; she loved all levels of schooling and was still in touch with many of her childhood friends. She had loving parents, who had a happy marriage, and an excellent relationship with her brother. She wished he could've had the same. She was just about to ask him if he wanted to get out and walk around, when he got in first. "Let's head back, huh? We've gotta get up early for the drive if we're going to get you to this meeting on time."

/

Claire had a relatively sleepless night. When she tried to take her mind off the meeting, her mind was filled with images of Jon growing up. Getting home from school to an empty house; empty kitchen cupboards and empty bedrooms. Heading to school with holes in his shoes and no jacket in the pouring rain. She wasn't much of a psychologist but wasn't surprised he'd had trouble forming adult relationships when he'd had nothing to model it on. The more she thought about it, the more she appreciated what they had together. Those thoughts then morphed back into the upcoming meeting and what she would do if they didn't give her her job back. Or asked her to work at HQ. When she eventually fell asleep, it was only thanks to watching Jon and listening to his deep breathing which calmed her mind. _I'm not going to leave you, Jonny. I promise I won't be like them, no matter the outcome._

She and Jon were loading their things into the trunk of the rental car when Lucy screamed across the parking lot. "Don't go anywhere, you two," she yelled, storming across the lot. She did not look happy. Claire looked at Jon, who had a bemused look on his face. When Lucy got to them, she was red in the face. "Which one of you was it, then?" she asked, eying them both up. _What are you on about?_ Claire thought, and was just about to say it, when Lucy continued. "Which one of you f—kers told Zane about me and Carl?" _Oh shit. This is not good._ Claire could feel her jaw had dropped. She turned her head to Jon, who was already looking at her. _Surely he wouldn't. Especially not without telling me._ "Luce, I swear, I know nothing about it," Claire said, turning back to her. "What has happened?" Lucy screwed her face up and shook her head. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd know anything about it, Claire," she said, leaning closer to Jon. "It was you, wasn't it?" she asked him, her fury plain to see. "You've never liked me, and didn't care if I went down as well as Carl." Jon raised his hands in innocence. "Well you're right about one thing, but I can honestly say it wasn't me either." Lucy breathed heavily through her nostrils. She looked like a raging bull. "I have no reason to trust you. Never have and never will." Claire could see tears building in her eyes. "Luce, what has happened?" she asked again. "Somehow, Zane has found out about Carl and I and now I have to be in Cleveland early to meet with him and some woman from Connecticut." The words were so sour. _No no no, how has this happened?_ Claire searched her brain for anyone else who could know about Lucy and Carl, and want to see either, or both, of them suffer. "It doesn't make sense," she found herself whispering out loud. "Oh it makes perfect sense," Lucy said, bringing her attention back to Jon. "Your boyfriend here couldn't handle that Carl might actually be right in all of this, that he might actually win. So he played his dirtiest hand, even if that meant dragging me into it."

The two of them stared at each other for a long time, and Claire was mildly impressed at Jon's ability to hold his tongue. _I can only imagine what he's wanting to say._ "I believe you, Claire. I can see that you're just as shocked as I am," Lucy said, still staring Jon down. "I just hope you know now what kind of man he is." _Woah._ "Hey, that's enough," Claire said, reaching out to Lucy in attempt to calm her down. "You're never going to believe him, but I do. He's never lied to me, and I believe him when he says it wasn't him. I would've known about it." Lucy swatted her hand away. "Fine then. I'm so done with this," she said. "I'm done with him, I'm done with you, done with all of this shit!" She walked off, and Claire saw the shudder of her shoulders; an undeniable giveaway of tears. She felt a small twinge of sympathy for Lucy. She wouldn't have been expecting this, and Claire sure wasn't either. She turned to look at Jon. "I swear it wasn't me. And I haven't told anyone either," he said, and Claire could tell it was the truth. _What happened to Team Claire?_ she wondered as they got into the car. _But more importantly, what the hell does this mean for the meeting?_


	54. Decision Time

**A/N: Thanks y'all for sticking with Claire and I until now. This one's a long one – buckle up xx**

"Ready?"

 _Hell no,_ Claire thought to herself. She and Jon had just pulled up to the venue in Cleveland, where the meeting was going to be held at midday. The drive from Cincinnati had gone too quickly. Claire had been lost in her own thoughts, while Jon seemed to distract himself with music. With the backdrop of him singing along to 80s power ballads, she tried to recount the events of the last two weeks, and the last 24 hours. This time last week she had been a believer in the power of positivity, to borrow a phrase from The New Day; she was certain everything would work out fine. But now, her stomach flipping faster with every mile, she couldn't find that mind set. She was tired, upset, confused and angry. _That's a bad combo._ "I guess," she finally replied to Jon, trying to channel some confidence. His face told her he didn't believe her. "Hang on a second," he said, reaching into the back seat for his backpack. He mumbled to himself as he pulled out a few items, then turned back towards her with something in his hands. "This is for you," he said, handing her a soft velvet bag, Claire looked down at the bag, then back up at him, pulling the drawstrings open gently. She glanced down and caught a glimpse of something shiny. _Oh my god._ She let her fingers wrap around it and pulled it out of the bag. It was a thin, white gold bangle covered in diamonds. She rotated it in her fingers, taking in its beauty and seeing the sun catch on different angles. _Holy shit, this is beautiful._ "I picked it up yesterday. I kinda hoped it would take your mind off things," she heard Jon say. She looked up at him and he had a sheepish look on his face. "I don't really know what I'm doing in the jewellery department, but the lady told me it was simple, yet bright and elegant. And that made me think of you." Claire had to bite her lip to try and quell the tears in her eyes. "Jonny…" she said quietly, completely blown away. "It's stunning, I love it." She slipped it on her wrist and looked back at him. "Thank you so much, you didn't have to do that." He smiled sweetly at her. "You know I'm no good with words," he started, running a hand through his hair. "So this is my way of saying no matter what happens in that room today, I'm still all in." Claire felt her chest swell. _And he thinks he doesn't have a way with words._ "I love you," she managed to get out before leaning across to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for a few moments. "I love you too. Now let's kick some ass."

Given their early arrival, they were able to park close to the arena door. It was eerily quiet; usually when they arrived at a venue, there were trucks and security everywhere, with some early fans begging for attention. They made their way through the designated door and followed the signs to the room they had been advised. As they rounded the last corner, Claire was surprised to see Hunter, with Stephanie by his side. She was on the phone, but smiled at Claire through her conversation. Hunter gave Jon a firm nod in greeting, then turned to Claire. "It's been a while, Claire. How are you doing?" he asked her. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous," she said, feeling her hands clam up. "That's to be expected," Hunter said. _Is that meant to be calming? Because it didn't work._ "I've got my fingers crossed for you," he added, and she smiled a thank you. "We better get going. We have a few things to iron out before the meeting. See you in there," he said, and started to walk away. Stephanie was just wrapping up her call, and pulled on her husband's arm to make him wait. As she hung up, she looked at Claire, her face not giving anything away. "It's good to see you, Claire," she said, before turning and walking with Hunter up the hall. "What was that about?" Jon asked in a whisper, as they were not yet out of ear shot. Claire didn't answer him, but smiled to herself. _That's got me feeling a little better about things._

Liam Francis was waiting for them outside the room they had been asked to find. "Miss Harris, Mr Good," he greeted them. "I hope you're both well." _Oh yes, we're just jolly_ , Claire thought, wondering why he'd even bother with the niceties. He opened the door and led them into the small room, which was furnished with a sofa, a small table and two chairs, with a view to the main road. "This is where we'd like you to base yourselves today. As you know, the meeting is scheduled for 12pm, so you're slightly early, but if you wait here, we'll come and get you when you're required, Miss Harris." Jon's face screwed up. "What about me?" he asked Liam flatly. "I understand you've come as moral support, Mr Good, which is excellent and definitely encouraged," Liam began. "However, we will not require your presence in the meeting this afternoon, so you're more than welcome to stay here until we have adjourned." _No,_ Claire thought. _I need him there_. Jon scoffed. "Oh I'm welcome to stay here am I?" There was sarcasm and a borderline disrespectful tone to his voice. Claire placed a hand gently on his arm in an attempt to calm him. The last thing they needed was him losing his cool. _Again._ "Okay, so Jon stays here," she said. "But who is going to be present?" Liam cleared his throat. "Myself and Allison, Mr Henry, Mr Griffin and Mr Levesque," he reeled off. _No Stephanie? And what about Lucy?_ "Stephanie won't be there?" she asked, revealing more panic in her voice than she intended. "No," Liam replied. "There's no reason for her to be, is there?" _Not for anyone else's benefit, just mine._ Claire shook her head. "I will be back in an hour or so to let you know we're ready," Liam said, before leaving the room. Claire slumped into the sofa and let her head fall back against the wall. 10.50, her watch told her. "I can't believe I have to stay here," Jon grumbled, leaning back against the table. "So don't," she replied. "It will drive you nuts sitting in here not knowing how long things are going to take. Go out, get a coffee, go for a run, call Roman or Cody and see where they're at. You'll need the distraction." She watched him shake his head adamantly. "No way. I'm going to be right here when you come out, so we can celebrate together." She smiled at his optimism, unsure if it was real or put on for her benefit. She didn't bother rebutting. She knew if roles were reversed she wouldn't be going anywhere either.

After what felt like forever, there was a knock at the door, and Liam reappeared. "Miss Harris, it's time," he said, and Claire couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding in his tone. She nodded at him, and turned to Jon, who moved past her to push the door closed again. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. "You got this. Remember who the villains are," he said, before wrapping his arms around her. Claire let her head fall against his chest, and felt him kiss the side of her head. "Yeah," she said softly, pulling back to look at him. "I'll see you soon," she said, forcing a smile and hoping it was believable. He kissed her quickly, before opening the door for her. Claire took a quick look back at him over her shoulder before walking in silence next to Liam. She wobbled her head and rolled her shoulders quickly, trying to get herself in the zone. _Professional. Formal. Confident._ She repeated these words to herself until she felt a buzz in her pocket. She opened up a picture from Eden; she and Cody were in a car, waving and giving the thumbs up.  
 _We're thinking of you. See you tonight xx  
_ It helped to settle Claire's nerves a bit, reminding her of who was in her corner. When she looked up from her phone, she could see Zane waiting outside a door. She'd not seen him in a fortnight, when he loaded her into a cab. He smiled when he saw her. "Hey Claire. How you doing?" _Why does everyone keep asking me that?_ She looked at him, forcing out a half smile, and sighed heavily. "Same here," he returned, and Liam led them both into the meeting room. There was a series of tables aligned to form a U shape, facing a large screen. Hunter was already seated, closest to the screen, and Liam directed Zane to sit opposite him. Claire was asked to sit next to Zane, and she wondered if this was a good thing or bad. She assumed, by the placement of glasses of water, that Carl would be sitting on the other side of Zane, and Liam and Allison to their right. There was an awkward silence while they waited for Allison and Carl, and Claire tried desperately to avoid eye contact with anyone. _Professional. Formal. Confident,_ she chanted internally. But her trance was broken when Allison led Carl into the room. The sight of him made her heart pump harder with adrenalin. Even though she had to believe he was going to, use it against her – if he hadn't already - she still didn't regret slapping him last night. _He could use another, judging by the smug look on his face._

Allison set up a dictaphone beside her, and Liam produced a notebook and pen. After a formal greeting thanking everyone for their time, Allison cut to the chase. "I am aware there are some heightened sensitivities around this case, which has accelerated within the past 24 hours, with new information coming to hand. I have on good authority that you are all permitted to remain in this room until all aspects of the case have been discussed and a solution realised." Claire looked across at Hunter, who gave a firm nod. _So even if we're here until the show starts?_ She hoped not. She'd be dying by then, and who knows what state Jon would be in. _Or the furniture in that room._ Allison began by recounting the events of the comms team meeting two weeks ago, and that, in accordance with his power as her direct manager, Zane stood Claire down while the matter was investigated. "I must say, Mr Henry," Allison said, "I do believe your actions were a bit heavy handed." It took everything Claire had to not turn and look at Zane's reaction. "As far as the company is concerned, there was no misconduct in Miss Harris' behaviour or relationship with Mr Good, and the resulting two week stand down she has had to endure does seem an overly forceful punishment for something which did not break any contractual policies." _I couldn't have said it better myself,_ Claire thought. _But why has it taken so long to come to that conclusion, then?_ Zane nodded beside her. "I understand where you're coming from Allison, I appreciate that," he responded. _Professional, formal, confident,_ Claire couldn't help but notice. "As I explained in our meetings, that initial reaction on the first day was actually mostly for Claire's benefit. I would not have expected her to be able to work after having her relationship revealed in that manner. The length of her stand down was then purely down to the length of your process." Claire smirked. She appreciated Zane's comments; she'd not thought of that herself. He'd said some pretty harsh things in the meeting, but had warmed up as he walked her out. But his last comment was entirely true; he never said how long she was on garden leave for. From the moment he closed the door on that cab, the process had been in Allison's hands. _Nice move, Zee._

Allison took a sip of her water, which Claire translated as a stalling mechanism. "All the same, Mr Henry," she retorted, "you'll be best to undertake some management refresher courses as to how to handle conflicts. We needn't put anyone through this again." Not known for holding his tongue and admitting defeat, Claire was surprised Zane didn't respond. He just nodded and made a note on his iPad. _So, he's been told off, and I've inadvertently been told I did nothing wrong. What now?_ Allison continued. "Until last night, we thought we had all the facts for this case, and thus were going to make suggestions based on that. Mr Griffin, your actions in the team meeting were disrespectful and deliberate, with the intention of seeing Miss Harris suffer. However, because the relationship between Miss Harris and Mr Good is factual, there is no reason to look into any avenues for slander or such. On the advice and direction of Mr Henry, approved by Mr Levesque, we have enrolled you into a workplace ethics course in Stamford, and your new role allocation of NXT Digital Content Coordinator will be revised with those parties at another time. Especially given the new information we have surrounding your workplace relationship with Miss Hockley." This didn't seem like news to anyone in the room, so Claire assumed that all parties must have been informed this morning. She was now thankful Lucy had accosted her in the parking lot; discovering it in this environment would have been awful. Carl spoke up. "Yes, yes. Lucy and I had some fun, but as you've just announced to everyone, that doesn't break contractual policy." _God he's an asshole._ Zane followed, quickly. "Not unless it is on work time and affects your ability to do your job. And the stats all show that when you and Lucy worked house shows together, the output was significantly lower than expectations." "That doesn't prove anything," Carl said directly to Allison. "Why would we bother having sex on the clock when we'd have the whole night to spend together anyway?" Claire closed her eyes and tried to get the image out of her brain. _Can't this be done in a separate meeting? I don't need to hear this._ Allison continued. "Still, Mr Griffin. Considering your willingness to out Miss Harris' relationship, the fact that you did not bring your own to our attention until your hand was forced is very telling."

Allison continued reading from what seemed to be a checklist. "And then there are your accusations of physical harm from Mr Good, of course. And from what you told me this morning, I believe you're wanting to add another claim against Miss Harris as well?" Claire noted Hunter's eyes lock onto her face, and Zane's head turn to her. _Oh so Lucy's news travels but mine doesn't?_ She could just imagine that Carl wanted to have that bomb dropped in the meeting to make things as uncomfortable as possible for her. She didn't wait for Carl to answer. "Yes, Allison," she said, trying to channel confidence. "I will own up to that upfront. I slapped him last night in the hotel parking lot." Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw the corners of Zane's mouth curl up in a smirk. "He aggressively confronted and insulted both myself and Jon, and after the chaos and emotion of the past two weeks, I found myself overstepping. He baited me perfectly and I fell for it. I know it was inappropriate." _But that doesn't mean I didn't love it._ Allison looked at her sternly. "You're correct, Miss Harris. It was inappropriate, considering you were stood down from your employment at that time, rightly or wrongly. You should have considered your options more carefully." She didn't know if rebutting would make things better or worse. "Ms Pionte," she began. "It's been a while since you and I have spoken to each other. I don't know if you have achieved your goal of getting all sides of the story, but I promise you that Carl knew exactly what he was doing. His behaviour towards me has been childish and combative for a long time, and last night, he was aiming to provoke both of us. I'm sure, if in my shoes, people in this room would've done the same thing, or worse." She watched as Hunter's eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a firm line. "In other words, Allison, Carl's been a prick; you know it, I know it, Carl knows it, Claire sure as hell knows it. But regardless, her physical reaction must be assessed with full seriousness, is that correct?" Allison nodded. "Exactly. And that is a matter I would ask you to dwell upon, Mr Levesque. We can come back to what you believe is an appropriate form of reprehension shortly."

Claire wiped her brow and took a large sip of her water. _Is it hot in here, or just me?_ She saw Carl lean back in his chair and throw her a look. She maintained her gaze towards Allison, not wanting to enter into any form of exchange with him. He was no doubt pleased that she would be facing censure over hitting him, and she wasn't surprised at that. She knew almost immediately it could be on the cards. She just hoped that someone else in the room had enough sense to call it square, after everything Carl had put her through. "There is one more thing we would like to bring to your attention," Allison said, motioning towards Liam, who pushed a few buttons on her iPad to bring up a webpage on the big screen at the front of the room. Claire gulped when she recognised the Tumblr interface. _So someone does know about this, then._ She wondered who had been the one to pass it on to Allison, although the odds were short on that bet. "This is a social media site, but Mr Henry, I'm sure you know more about this than I do. Can you give us a short rundown?" Zane looked surprised to be asked to contribute to this part of the conversation. "Tumblr is a very popular sharing platform which allows users to post and share various forms of media; imagery, text, video, gifs. It is popular with artists who run it instead of, or in conjunction with, their own trading websites. We don't have it as one of our WWE platforms, as we have other channels to deliver that content. I am aware, however, that fans repurpose our content and share avidly on the site." Claire was certain Allison was probably the only one in the room that didn't have even a basic understanding of what Tumblr was; even Hunter nodded his head in familiarity

"Thank you, Mr Henry. It has been brought to our attention that hashtags work similarly on Tumblr as they do on the other media sites – Twitter and the like. And as such, many of the talent have their own searchable content on the site. Including Dean Ambrose." Claire breathed in deeply. She knew where this was headed. She threaded her fingers together so tight she felt a stab of pain, in order to give her something else to focus on. Allison typed, slowly, into the search bar '#Deanette' and hit enter, explaining herself whilst doing so. "Apparently, a sub-search of the Dean Ambrose hashtag over the past few weeks has been this – Deanette, a hybrid of the word brunette and Dean Ambrose." Claire couldn't help but cringe; Allison's elementary explanations reminded her of when she had set her father up on Facebook. As the new page appeared on the screen, Claire didn't need to look; she knew what would be showing. Instead she looked at Hunter's face, awaiting his reaction. Zane chuckled slightly next to her, whispering "You're famous now!" Carl must've heard him, and responded. "Exactly! My point is that if the WWE Universe were already cracking on to Claire and Ambrose's relationship, then why should I be punished as if I'd shouted out a state secret? It clearly wasn't as well-kept a secret as they would have you believe." Claire closed her eyes tightly. _He will seriously stop at nothing._ "That shouldn't come into the equation," Zane replied. "It wasn't only what you revealed, it was how you chose to do so, and your intentions in doing so." Hunter interrupted them. "So these pictures, Claire, of you and Jon, how far back do they go?" She looked up on the screen. She recognised the images she had seen a few nights ago. "A few weeks, some of them," she replied. "Allison, I think if you navigate to the top left corner, you're able to order them by most recent posts, rather than most popular. That will help with a timeline." A look of confusion crossed Allison's face, and Liam leaned across to follow Claire's instructions.

The new page loaded on the big screen, and Claire was again reluctant to look at it. She was trying to think how to play this one. Yes, it was awkward and less than ideal, but she didn't see this as a strike against her name, or a major player in impacting Carl's potential punishment. When she finally flicked her eyes to the screen, a new image greeted her. It was of her and Jon walking towards a venue. In the very clothes she was wearing this minute. She squinted and saw a glimpse of the bangle on her wrist. _Holy shit, that was taken today! These girls don't waste time, do they?_ She looked at the name of the profile – AmbroseChick513. _Must be a big fan, or a big stalker…._ Liam slowly scrolled down the page, revealing two more recent posts which Claire hadn't seen yet. _No way,_ she thought to herself, and leaned closer towards the screen to make sure the pictures were what she thought they were. "Wait, Liam, can you please click on that username?" Everyone looked at Claire; it seemed like a strange request when things had taken a bad turn for her. "Please, just click on it for me," she repeated. The mouse on the big screen moved to the username, and brought up the profile of AmbroseChick513. "Can you scroll, please?" Claire requested. Both Allison and Liam gave her a strange look, but did so. There was the photo of her and Jon walking into the building this morning. Next were the images which had caught her eye, from the hotel parking lot the previous night; others from a month ago when they were walking into a venue with Roman. There were even some of the two of them getting into the back of the cab that night of the awful nightclub event in Atlanta. All posted as original images by AmbroseChick513 - not shared content. Claire felt her stomach churn and her mouth go dry. She shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you," she spat out bitterly, turning towards Carl with narrow eyes. "You did this. You started this." Carl's eyes shifted side to side anxiously, before he looked around the room. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, not having lost any of his brash confidence. "Don't act innocent now. Tell me how this person, this AmbroseGirl was in Atlanta, in Birmingham, and in Knoxville? How did she get these photos, so up close and so clear?" She could see Carl's eyes looking around those in the room, to see if they were buying her story. "And then all of a sudden, she's here, today, with a photo of Jon and I walking into the building this morning, when there were zero fans outside that early. And she happens to have images of us last night, in the parking lot. A picture of us walking towards her, then one of us walking away from her, but funnily enough, she missed the entire confrontation we had with you. Don't you think 'Dean's brunette' slapping somebody would've been a major social media coup?" She heard a couple of gasps around the room. _The penny has dropped,_ she thought to herself. "Carl, what the f—k?" Zane shouted. "Did you really do this?" Claire felt a slight sense of relief as everyone in the room turned from her to Carl.

Carl wheeled his chair back slightly from the table. "Come on Zee, she's desperate. Don't listen to her," he said, his voice cracking slightly. Zane wasn't buying it. "Answer the question." A long silence filled the room, and Claire felt her head spin. _How could he do this? After everything else? What did I do to deserve this?_ "Show me your phone, Carl." Hunter's voice cut in to her thoughts. There was silence for a moment, before he continued. "Come on. If you've got nothing to hide then there's no reason not to. I promise not to look at the naked pictures of Lucy." Claire winced; not only at the thought, but also that Lucy had been brought into this at all. _I need to know who did that._ Hunter had an almost comical aura to him now. "Come on, bring it up here. Let's see if you have the tumblr app." She watched as Carl licked his lips nervously. "I'd, ah, I'd rather not." He squirmed, and Claire let out a sigh. It was true. She hadn't pieced it together until she'd seen the images from last night, but now it was all making sense, despite her not believing anyone could stoop to such a level. Now, Carl's defiance was faltering and his refusal to show his phone was as good as a confession to her. "Miss Harris, Mister Henry, would you give us a minute please?" Allison asked calmly, not taking her eyes off Carl. "No, they can stay," Hunter said, pushing up out of his chair and walking around the table. Carl fixed his vision on the table in front of him. Claire could see sweat forming on his forehead. Hunter stood beside him and leaned down to his ear. "Get your phone out of your pocket, now." Claire watched without emotion as Carl slowly put his hand in his pocket and place his phone on the table. Hunter pushed it forward out of Carl's reach. "You have two choices. You can show me the contents of your phone, or you can get the hell out of this room, and this company."

Claire didn't realise she was holding her breath. Carl took a few big breaths, clearly contemplating his choice. He didn't make eye contact with Hunter as he stood up, reached for his phone and took a few steps away from the table. _Oh my god. He's leaving._ Claire let that reality sink into her mind. _Did I just get someone fired?_ Zane's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Put the phone down, asshole. It's company property." Carl's eyes drifted from Zane, to his phone, then to Claire. Despite wanting to break out into a massive grin, she held herself together, and just focused on not breaking his stare. He placed the phone back on the table, taking a step back. When Hunter spoke, he broke Claire's stare. "I will personally escort you from the building." As the two of them left the room, she sighed deeply. She wanted to maintain her professional demeanour on the outside, but that wouldn't stop her from celebrating in her mind.

 _Good riddance, asshole._


	55. And breathe

Claire sighed heavily and lowered her forehead to the table involuntarily. That had been a gamble on instinct, but she'd been right. The events of the last two weeks had been crazy, but the realisation of the last ten minutes had blown her mind. She suddenly felt extremely fatigued. She'd been carrying a lot of baggage recently and even though it had now been alleviated, she was feeling the strain as she realised just how much of a weight it had been, on her mind and spirit. She felt Zane's hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Claire," he said. "I feel bad I didn't know any of this." Claire straightened up and shook her head. How could anyone have predicted how ridiculous Carl would've acted just to drag her down? "Don't worry," she responded. "It's all over now."

 _Right?_ she thought, looking purposefully at Allison and Liam. Allison still looked stunned. She shuffled some paper work. "Well, Mr Levesque's decision certainly outweighs mine," she said matter of factly. "I certainly don't have the power to dismiss anyone on the spot without his say so, and he has beaten me to it." _What about me?_ Claire thought. She didn't want to waste any more time or effort on Carl. He had dominated her life for two weeks and now he was gone. Allison looked at Zane. "We still have the matter of Mr Good's threats of physical violence to attend to.." Zane interrupted her. "Jon's fine. I never laid an official complaint, just told Hunter what had happened. He'd not hurt a fly," he said, with a sideways glance at Claire. She couldn't help but smirk. _That is entirely untrue_. She knew he'd still love to get his hands on Carl. "And," Zane continued, "the one who laid complaints is no longer a concern, so those should be null and void." _Agreed_ , Claire thought. She wasn't sure anything would fire Jon up again like this had. A word to him about it would surely be enough. _At least I hope I never see him this angry again..._ Allison looked at Zane disapprovingly. "If you'd let me finish, Mr Henry, I was going to say that Mr Levesque has said he will personally work closely with Mr Good on this issue. Which I think is a good thing. Peer to peer mentoring is something I think he'd respond to." _Much more than stuffy behavioural courses or self-help books._ _  
_  
Zane pushed back out of his chair and stood up, standing behind Claire and patting his hands on her shoulders. "So, what are your plans tonight, girl? Cos we've just had a spot open up and could use some help." Claire tried to fight the smile on her face. She knew Allison would have the final say. She turned to her, and Allison had a soft look on her face. _If I didn't know better, I'd think that was an attempt at a smile..._ "Miss Harris, all senior parties had agreed before today's meeting that you had been unjustly stood down, so you are free to resume your duties," she stated. Claire sighed. _Thank god._ "However I would make a suggestion," Allison continued. "To both you and Mr Good. Keep your hands to yourself, please." Claire let out a small chuckle. "I don't make a habit of hitting people, Allison. And I hope I never have reason like this again." Allison nodded sternly, then stood, indicating the meeting was over. Claire felt Zane repeat his pat on her shoulders, before she stood also. She turned to face Zane. Before this saga, he'd been one of the best bosses she'd had. He was hard, but fair, and recognised the effort she'd put in and rewarded that. She hoped that would continue now. She tried to convey that on her face. "Welcome back," he said, holding out his arms. Claire leaned forward and embraced him. "Thank you," she whispered, determined to maintain control of get emotions. Zane nodded, before adding quietly "I'm sorry." Claire knew he was. She believed it.

After shaking hands with both Liam and Allison, and thanking them, Zane opened the door for Claire. As she walked through, she saw a figure standing across the hall. "There was no way I was staying in that damn room a minute longer." Jon's face was stern and stressed. Claire smiled gently at him; it was no surprise to her he didn't like being told to sit still. "So," Zane began before she had the chance to respond, "how would you feel about Claire covering your storyline tonight? Would you cooperate again?" Jon looked at Zane, and back at Claire, noticing the tears welling in her eyes. Her smile expanded into a wide grin, and she noticed a spark rise in Jon's eyes. A smirk appeared on his face. "Nah," he replied to Zane without looking away from Claire. "I f-king hate social media." Despite his words, the look on his face was one of pure joy. His wide smile pushed Claire over the edge; she powered towards him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in the crook of his neck. She couldn't help the tears from escaping her eyes, and wasn't sure if they were tears of joy or relief. _It's over_ , she thought to herself.

"I'll leave you two to it," Zane said awkwardly, his comment forcing Claire to pull back from Jon. She wiped her eyes before turning to look at him. "I'll catch up with you later," he added, turning to walk down the hall. "Hey Zee," Jon called out, causing both Claire and Zane to look at him. "We good?" Claire's eyes flicked between the two men. There seemed to be some sort of male communication passing between them which she couldn't accurately read. "Of course," Zane said genuinely. "With him gone, I'm now the one in the most trouble in the company. I've got to upskill on my managerial authority, or lack thereof." He looked at Jon for a moment longer, then smiled at Claire before heading on his way.

As they headed back to their allocated room, Jon asked "He's gone? They fired the bastard?" Claire nodded, still coming to terms with it all. "Hunter made sure he left the building immediately." Jon laughed. "Good shit," he said, giving a small fist pump. He turned to her. "Are you not happy about that?" "It's not that," she replied. "I'm thrilled. It's just... He was such an asshole. And I didn't even know. I didn't see it coming." She felt Jon's hand slip into hers as they found their room. "No one would've predicted that, any of it. Don't worry about it anymore," he said, pulling her back into his arms. "I'm so happy. The truth always comes out." _Doesn't it just..._ She went on to tell him that Carl was responsible for numerous photos of them online, building his own Tumblr account to host them. She noticed his face twitch in anger. "Should've smacked him while I had the chance. He's lucky I won't be seeing his face again or I'd break it." Claire couldn't help but chuckle. "You need to watch yourself, Rocky. It sounds like you'll just get a slap on the hand, but you can't keep letting things like that come out of your mouth." He laughed. "Well then" he replied, a cheeky grin appearing on his face. "Lucky you're going to be around to keep my mouth busy," he said, before lowering his lips to hers.

With a couple of hours before the rest of the staff and roster arrived, Jon suggested going to grab a meal. Claire was starving; she had felt so nervous before the meeting she had been nauseous. But there was something more important to address.

"We need to talk to Lucy."


	56. Loyalties

**A/N: Hello my lovelies. So sorry for the delay, I have been away with work, then away visiting family. Sorry to leave you hanging!**

Claire knew Lucy would be somewhere in the building. She wouldn't have been out of bed that early without a significant reason; she must've been making her way here too. She and Jon walked the halls of the floor they were on, looking for any sign of her. "We'll hear her before we see her," Jon mumbled. He was certainly not as anxious to find Lucy as she was. Claire got the feeling he wanted to put this all behind them as soon as possible, but she knew there was still one piece of the puzzle to work out before she could put it to rest. _Who the hell had told them about Lucy and Carl?_

After a sweep of the conference floor and the level above, Claire conceded they must have missed her. She sighed heavily, before Jon stood in front of her. He took hold of her shoulders. "Can you chill out, please?" he asked her. "You just got the best outcome we could've hoped for, and you've hardly acknowledged it. Do me a favour; screw Lucy for now. Let's go get some food, and we can be back here in time to find her before the show." Claire opened her mouth to rebut, but decided against it. Jon looked hopeful, and she remembered that the outcome had been a big relief for him too. And he wouldn't care if they ever spoke to Lucy. She smiled at him. "Sure, let's get out of here," she said, taking his hand.

/

Claire and Jon had grabbed sushi and eaten it in a local park, enjoying the fresh air and calm, before heading back to the venue. Claire was keen to be there early in order to catch up with creative to discuss the script. Jon wasn't so keen, but conceded due to Claire's enthusiasm to get back to work. They made their way through the back door, and as they walked the corridors, Claire caught a glimpse of Lucy's back. "Luce!" Claire called, and watched as Lucy turned to look at her, then Jon, and continued walking. She exchanged a look with Jon before breaking into a jog to catch up with her. "Wait up, it's just me." Upon realising Jon wasn't coming with her, Lucy stopped, but didn't turn around. She didn't seem to be in the mood to talk. "You are both lucky that Carl's a complete douche bag, I think they took sympathy on me," she started. Claire stood in front of her, awaiting further explanation. "Basically I got told off for f-king on company time, but because Carl was the villain in everything else, I've got off lightly."

Claire partially felt the weight lift from her chest. "So you're working tonight?" Lucy nodded. _Me too_ , Claire thought, but she didn't want to rock the boat with Lucy while she was still angry with her. "So did you find out how they knew?" It was a risky question, but she needed to know. Lucy sighed heavily. "I didn't get to find out who it was, but they told me who it wasn't," she replied. Lucy's tone indicated that she'd been told it wasn't Claire or Jon, but not that she believed it. "They wouldn't disclose the source, but I told them I knew it was one of you. They firmly denied it." _That's cos it's not true_. Lucy stared at her pointedly. "Look I'm sorry I got shitty at you," she said, looking at Claire before letting her eyes roam to Jon standing down the hall. "But I still don't trust him. You guys are the only ones who knew. In fact, I didn't even tell him, you did. So I only told one person. So I don't know who the hell it was but when I find out I'm going to lose it." She could hear Lucy's tone getting shorter. "Do you think it could've been Carl?" She floated the question cautiously, but it was her strongest belief. Lucy frowned. "Why the hell would he do that? That's like self-sabotage. They were out to get him anyway, why give them another reason to punish him?" Claire felt her shoulders tense just thinking about the possibilities of his intentions. "Well, evidently, he got up to some crazy shit." Lucy looked confused. "What the hell do you mean?" Claire took a breath, and quickly summed up the meeting she'd had this morning, and how Carl had dedicated a Tumblr account to posting pictures of her and Jon.

Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief. "What an asshole," she said slowly, still taking in the implications. "So what happened?" "He's gone," Claire replied. "He refused to show Hunter his phone, which Hunter took as evidence of his guilt, and personally walked him out of the place. And the company." Lucy shook her head slowly. "I mean, we all knew he was a dick, but not that much of a dick. And what did you ever do to him to deserve that?" Claire let that question hang. _I wonder if anyone will ever know the answer to that._ "So," Lucy continued, "everything with you is okay, or...?" Claire smiled softly. "Yeah. I'm back, as of tonight." She watched as Lucy's lips curved into a smile. "So that means I don't have to suffer through Dean Ambrose anymore?" she asked, beckoning towards him. Claire shot a quick look over at him; leaning against the wall, sunglasses on, hat pulled low. He looked like he was posing for a modelling shoot, in his own distinctly rough way. "I think you'll find his mood has increased exponentially," Claire laughed. Lucy had a smirk on her face herself. "Good," she said. "The misery man gimmick was getting old." They smiled at each other, and Claire knew that was Lucy's way of saying things between them were going to be okay. _Thank god for that,_ Claire thought. _But still. Who the hell was it?_

/

Jon pulled his boots out of his bag and sat down on the bench in his locker room. He was glad Claire and Lucy had had their little moment. _Girls are weird. Are they friends? Are they not friends? They seem to change their mind all the time._ He began to tape his wrists, going over the lines he'd be trading with Paul Heyman later on this evening. He chuckled as he found himself hoping there would be plenty of social media coverage of his segments. Not only because Claire would be covering his storylines, but because he felt like smiling for the first time in two weeks. He wasn't used to noticing how often he smiled, but he definitely felt its absence over the past fortnight.

The door to his locker room opened without warning. Jon assumed it would be Claire was surprised to see Dolph closing the door behind him. "Hey man, what's up?" Jon asked. Dolph was a roamer; he was always a bundle of nerves before any show and they manifested in him talking to anyone he could find. It had been a while since he'd been on the receiving end, though. _Guess it's my duty tonight_ , he thought. "Hey, did everything work out alright with Claire? It was today right?" Dolph asked. Jon was bemused; _it's not like him to care so much_. "Yeah, she's been fully reinstated. In fact, she's working tonight." A grin appeared on Dolph's face. "Great man. You must be real happy." Jon nodded. "Yeah man, I am." There was a short silence, while both men let that reply sink in. "I knew you would be," Dolph replied. "Anyone could see that girl's got you good, Mox. You're nuts for her. When I overheard that Lucy chick tell you that you loved her, it sounded like you were the only one who didn't know." Jon laughed – he had known, but only subconsciously. It really irked him that out of everyone in the world, it had been Lucy to make him realise.

 _Wait. Lucy._ "You heard her say that?" Jon asked. "Yeah man, I heard the whole thing. Turns out she's got a few skeletons of her own, huh?" _Oh shit._ He raised his eyebrows at Dolph. "I knew what she said was true, about you being in love with Claire. So I wanted to do what I could to help bring that bastard down." Jon let his tongue roll around against his cheek. "Tell me it worked. Is he gone?" Dolph continued. "Yeah, he's gone. For good," Jon answered, staring blankly at the floor across the room. "Thanks, man," he added. He was genuinely appreciative of Dolph's intentions; going to Steph and Hunter to help Claire, and him by association. He was also pleased that he had proof it wasn't him. _Maybe Lucy will give me a break now. Not that I care._ Dolph's voice interrupted his train of thought. "You know what being in love means though, right?" _Good god, where is this going to go?_ Jon wondered. "It means that you can only have that one pussy," Dolph said, with a rare seriousness in his eyes. Jon watched as he took a look over his shoulder, as if there might be someone else within earshot. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, looking Jon straight in the eye. "And it's great."

 **A/N: We're almost done with this one. I've had another idea for a Dean fic, and I've also fallen in love with Sami Zayn so would like to try something with him as well. Let me know if there's any interest!**


	57. Best laid plans

Looking through a copy of the script and her allocation notes, Claire allowed herself a moment. It had been another crazy day in a fortnight of crazy days, but she had got what she wanted. When she woke up, despite what she thought was the logical outcome, she still had feared where she'd be at this time of the evening. Fired? Even worse, still in limbo? The worst case scenario would've been Carl not being reprimanded, her being asked to work at HQ again, and Jon facing penalties for his physical threats. But, as her eyes passed over the notes from creative, she sighed, knowing everyone was in their rightful place. Carl included. For a brief moment, she wondered what he would do for a job now. No one here would give him a glowing reference. But she shook it from her mind as quickly as it arrived. He had taken up too much of her energy and emotion. _It's my time now._

She walked up the hall to find Stephanie and Hunter, who she would be covering tonight. When she knocked on their office door, Steph's voice called for her to enter. "Claire, it's so good to have you back," Steph said, getting up off her seat and extending her hand. _Professional. Formal. Confident_. A handshake may have seemed strangely formal after their shared moment in Connecticut but Claire knew Steph had to keep her boundaries. That said, the smile and warmth on Stephanie's face alluded to their history. "It's so good to be back," Claire replied. Steph nodded. "I hear it's been quite a bumpy ride for you recently. Suffice to say we do not tolerate that behaviour and my only regret is not acting sooner. I'm sorry for that." Claire chuckled. "Every good storyline needs a heel and a face, right?" Stephanie slipped on her blazer. "True," she said, picking up her own copy of the script. "And the good guys always win in the end."

After taking her required of shots of Steph and Hunter, and writing their captions, Claire felt her phone buzz. She looked down to see Jon's name on the screen.  
 _You're late. We have very important social media content to produce. Don't make me complain to the bosses about your incompetence..._  
She couldn't fight the smirk on her face.  
 _You're a cheeky shit, Good_ , she typed out in reply, making her way towards his locker room.

Jon was match-ready when she walked into his locker room. He put his phone down on the bench and walked over to her. "Look at you, back in your element huh?" he joked, bringing his arms around her. Claire pushed him away from her. "None of that," she said in mock disapproval. "I am a professional and will not have my name sullied in the workplace." Jon's head tipped back with laughter. "Oh it's too late for that, sweetheart. You're with me now. Consider yourself officially sullied."

As they were taking shots of Dean Ambrose limbering up for his match, Claire told him about her chat with Stephanie. "I actually had an interesting chat of my own," Jon replied. "If I asked you to guess who told Steph and Hunter about Lucy, I bet you'd never guess the same guy who used the word 'pussy' when telling me how great being in love with someone is..." Claire felt herself frown, but as his words sunk in she knew there was only one person crass enough to make that statement. "Oh my god," she began. "How the hell did Dolph know?" Lucy and Dolph had been present in each other's company before, of course, but she'd never noticed them talking in depth in any way. _Although I wouldn't put it past either of them to try it on with the other..._ Jon began answering her. "So, last week, when I had to deal with Lucy around here, she and I had a discussion..." Claire corrected him. "You mean argument." She didn't have to witness it to know neither of them would keep their cool without her mediating. "I was on my best behaviour," Jon assured her, before continuing. "She called me out about the feelings I had for you. And I got angry, she got angry and she mentioned her and Carl in her logic. Turns out I wasn't the only one who heard her. She really needs to keep her voice down." Claire could see how it played out, but didn't understand why Dolph felt the need to get involved. "He didn't have anything to do with this, though," she said out loud, mainly to herself. "He's a loyal guy," Jon replied. "We may all turn blind eyes to each other's bed activity, but we all have each other's back. He knew having you back here would matter to me, so he did something about it." Claire smiled. _Boys and their code_. "You've got good friends, Jonny," she said, softly. He looked up at her from his stretching spot on the floor. "We've got good friends," he corrected her.

"So you're coming to Vegas with me tonight, right?" he asked, getting up off the floor. Claire hadn't given much thought to the end of the night; she hadn't booked a flight back home, but she hadn't assumed she would be going Vegas. _When I left Stamford, he wasn't speaking to me..._ "Well, I didn't bring enough clothes to last me another rotation, but if I can use your laundry, you've got yourself a deal," she said. "Even better, go shopping for some new stuff. You're gonna need something to fill the space I'm clearing in the wardrobe." Claire's mouth opened slightly. _Did he just imply what I think he implied?_ She looked at him, and a small smirk appeared on his face. "The place could use a bit of a woman's touch, don't you think?" Claire felt her heart swell, sending waves of warmth through her body. She didn't know what to say, and Jon must have sensed this. "I told you," he began. "I'm all in. If you are, of course. It doesn't make sense for us to be going home to different coasts for two nights a week. And it doesn't make sense for you to be paying rent to only sleep there two nights a week." _Oh my god, is this too much too soon? Moving in with him? Moving states?_ Jon continued. "I won't make you pay rent, although I could arrange other methods of payment..." Claire saw the spark in his eye. _He's given this some thought. He wants this. I want this_. A wide smile emerged on her face, and she leaned forward to kiss him. She felt his hands slip on to her hips, and heard him inhale deeply through his nose. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, and she delighted in his passion. _And it could always be like this. Just him and me._ She pulled back, looking him in the eye. His eyes were wide and hopeful. "Mrs Allen needs three weeks' notice," she said. "I won't do her wrong." A grin appeared on Jon's face. "And neither would I," he replied. "After all, she does think I'm a very delightful young man." Claire chuckled. "If only she knew the truth," she laughed, before Jon brought his lips down to hers again.

During the show, Claire crossed Lucy's path a few times, but the two were so busy they hardly had time to chat. A few of the staff stopped Claire to welcome her back, and a few of the roster raised eyebrows in her direction. But she didn't let that stop her. She was back, she was happy, and ready to put it all behind her. One person who did make the time to pull her aside was Roman. "I'm so glad you're back," he said genuinely. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You belong here. And most of all, you need to be here to keep that guy sane," he said beckoning at Jon warming up before his match. "No," she replied. "He'll always be crazy. At least now he's not crazy and angry." As she took a picture of Dean Ambrose disappearing through the curtain and into the roaring arena, she caught a glimpse of Dolph out of the corner of her eye. A plate of catering in his hand, he looked to be heading to his locker room. He lifted his head halfway across the hall, and looked at Claire. He stopped, only for a brief moment, and Claire gave him a soft, knowing smile. _Thank you,_ she tried to portray through her face. Dolph raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, and one corner of his mouth turned up into a cheeky smirk. He nodded his head slowly, then took an enormous bite of the chicken leg in his hand. _He knows,_ Claire chuckled, avoiding thinking about his gross eating habits.

Following the show, once Claire had done all of her post-shots with Jon, Heyman and Lesnar, she tracked Lucy down. "Have you got a minute?" she asked, and when Lucy nodded, Claire pulled her into a side hallway. She didn't want to have any ears overhearing things they shouldn't again. "What's with the secrecy?" Lucy said, looking dubious. Claire cut to the chase. "I know who it was," she said, using Lucy's own direct communication style. Lucy's eyes widened. "Oh yeah, tell me then," she said, the flicker of emotion in her voice not lost on Claire. Lucy was a hard ass; much tougher emotionally than Claire herself had proven to be, but she knew better than to assume this incident hadn't affected her in some way. "It was Dolph," Claire said quietly, and braced herself for an overreaction. Instead, Lucy had the same reaction as she had. "How the hell did he know?" Claire recounted the story Jon had told her, and the reason Dolph had provided for passing it on. Lucy was quiet for longer than Claire expected. She almost wished Jon had been with her to witness it. "Well, I guess his heart was in the right place," she said, after a long pause. "Well, for you guys at least." Claire frowned, trying to read her expression. "I wish someone was that loyal to me," Lucy mumbled. "Hey," Claire said, reaching out an arm to her. "I've been nothing but. And lord knows you gave me plenty of reasons not to be." Lucy raised her head, and Claire decided she needed to continue. "I know you've not been happy about Jon and I, ever, but you never once tried to be supportive. And you were quick to believe the worst about both of us. And through all of that, I needed a friend. I was lucky Eden was there for me, because it didn't seem like you wanted to go out of your way to check on me." Lucy lowered her head slightly, but Claire kept going. "But I was still loyal to you. I kept my mouth shut; I still thought about you in all of this. So don't you think that no one is on your side here, because I am, even if I shouldn't be."

Lucy was looking down at her feet. Claire had never seen Lucy defeated, and felt this would be the closest she would get. "I'm sorry Claire," Lucy replied. I've been a bit of bitch. Actually, that's probably an understatement. Carl must've rubbed off on me," Lucy said. Claire shook her head. "Don't compare yourself to him, you're nowhere near his level." Lucy shook her head. "But I'm also nowhere near your level. I'm sorry I've not been a good friend. I'm even sorry about Jon. Turns out he's nothing like what I said he'd be." _Damn right about that,_ Claire thought, the words coming through her brain in Jon's voice. She could see a hint of meaning in her eyes. "Promise me something," she started. "Wipe the slate clean. Forget about who he was and what he did before I met him. Just focus on who he's been since, and will be now." Claire saw Lucy breathe deeply. "You're right," she conceded. "I promise. But he needs to do the same," she said. Claire couldn't help but laugh at her defensive nature. "I will have the same chat with him, okay?" She felt like a school teacher separating two whining children, but had a feeling winning Lucy over would be the biggest battle.

/

Claire and Jon shared a cab with Cody and Eden to the airport. The mood was light and jovial, but Claire was starting to feel the strain of the past week. A few times, she felt her eyelids attempting to close, and it was the laughter or conversation of the others which jerked her back into reality. Jon gave her a gentle smile, knowing it was all catching up on her. When they arrived at the airport, and after navigating a couple of autograph hunters, the couples went their separate ways to their respective gates. Eden gave Claire an extra-long hug. "Enjoy these next few days, you deserve to," she said during the embrace. Claire sighed. "Thank you," she whispered. "Both of us owe you, big time." Eden shook her head, pulling back to look Claire in the eye. "Don't be silly, no one's keeping count." The girls hugged again, and Cody even gave Claire a quick squeeze before they left. "I'm so happy for you," he said quickly.

 _Same,_ she thought. She turned to see Jon standing with both of their bags, leaning casually against them. She felt a flicker in her stomach. He still gave her that rollercoaster feeling; that anticipation and excitement. He had his hat pulled low, with fluffy hair erratically poking out from under it. His scruffy whiskers were growing longer, adding a tint of ginger to his jawline. Four months ago, she would never have looked twice at him. But now, in this state, away from the crowds, away from Dean Ambrose, he'd never looked more appealing. _He may not be everyone's idea of a Romeo, but he works for me._

 _/_

Jon linked his fingers through hers as she looked out the window of the plane, watching Ohio quickly disappear under her. She closed her eyes, preparing to get some sleep on the way to Vegas. She could feel the slight grin on her face. _What did the Claire of four months ago know, huh?_ She was head over heels with life now, proving that best laid plans often go awry. She couldn't have stopped herself from falling for Jon Good, and thankfully, he couldn't stop himself either. And with Carl behind them, she drifted off to sleep thinking of that old saying: Every end brings a new beginning. _And mine's in Vegas._

 **A/N: Thank you, everyone, for sticking with me, Claire and Jonny. I have loved this experience of writing a fic. I now hope to have a bit more time on my hands to read some of yours!**


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